


Growing up Goyle

by SummerLeighWind



Series: Farley Goyle [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arguing, Babies, Babysitting, Bad Parenting, Birthday, Boggarts, Bookstores, Bullying, Carnival, Child Abuse, Childhood, Childhood Friends, Children, Cousin Incest, Crushes, Drug Use, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Familiars, Father-Son Relationship, First Crush, First Kiss, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hide and Seek, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Incest, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Violence, Mother-Son Relationship, Next Generation, Nightmares, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Parent-Child Relationship, Party, Playgrounds, Recreational Drug Use, Revelations, Sorting Ceremony, Teenagers, Time Travel, Time Turner, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 41,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4451600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerLeighWind/pseuds/SummerLeighWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Farley Goyle has never had it easy. Not that it was any surprise. It was to be expected with him being the only son of Gregory Goyle and Millicent Goyle nee Bulstrode. Though, Farley supposed he had it better than some.  Or so he hoped. It had to be better than being Harry Potter's son or even Draco Malfoy's. Right? A collection of moments from Farley Goyle's childhood and adolescence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello, Farley Goyle

"No! No!" Rachel's crabby niece screamed as she was manhandled from the floor and away from her blocks.

Rachel, completely undeterred by the eighteen-month old's behavior, laughed. "Hush, hush, Ulyssa. You're getting to see the  _baby_!" she told her niece with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Millicent snorted as she shifted her sleeping slug of a son. He was such a dull baby, she mused. He slept more often than he didn't and even when he did cry, it was a low, baying sound that was similar to that of a lamb's rather than the usual ear-splitting pitch.

Though, that was probably for the best, Millicent mused. She probably wouldn't like her son nearly as much as she did if he were the usual, screechy beast that so many infants were. He might be dull from the Goyle blood, but at least it made it easy to care for him. That, she was quite thankful for. Millicent didn't know how she would have handled a finicky baby.

She just might have drowned them then.

Watching as her cousin wrangled the fussy toddler into sitting on her lap, Millicent ran a hand over her son's baldhead. She didn't know why they were bothering to introduce the two. Ulyssa probably would whine all the way through it.

However, Millicent was quickly proven wrong when the toddler stopped crying abruptly.

"There you are!" Rachel cooed at her niece.

The little drooly girl had her eyes fixed on Millicent's son. Pulling out a saliva covered finger from her mouth, Ulyssa pointed at Millicent's son.

Giving the girl an indulgent cuddle, Rachel asked, "What's that, Ulyssa?"

"Baby!" she proclaimed

Millicent's cousin kissed Ulyssa's ruddy cheek. "Yes! That's it, Ulyssa, that's a baby!" she praised.

Too distracted by Millicent's son to care for the praise, the little girl almost tipped out of her aunt's arm in her hurry to grab Farley's face.

Shifting back a little, Millicent scowled. "No, Ulyssa," she scolded.

"Baby!" the toddler wailed in response, struggling to get to Millicent's son.

Sighing in a good-natured way, Rachel gave Millicent a hopeful smile. "Why don't you tell Ulyssa his name?" she suggested.

Rolling her eyes, Millicent did so (not that she saw why they should, Ulyssa couldn't even pronounce her own name). "This is Farley, Ulyssa. Say hello."

The toddler paused in her whining. "Far'y?" she tested.

"That's a girl!" Rachel applauded as she gave the little girl a hug. "How about you say, hi, hm?"

"Far'y! Hi, Far'y!" she chattered, getting to her knees and in a much gentler manner, scooting close to Millicent.

Some of her earlier wariness fading, Millicent brought Farley away from her neck and said to the toddler. "If you like, you may touch him.  _Nicely_ , mind you, Ulyssa."

Grinning a gummy smile at her, Ulyssa reached over and gave Farley's face a pat with her sticky hand. "Far'y," she gurgled. "Hi!"

As if to say hello back, Farley opened his eyes for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he closed them again.

"Uh!" Ulyssa exclaimed, open mouth as she looked between Millicent's son, Millicent herself, and Rachel.

Laughing, Millicent's cousin pulled her niece back in her lap and said to the toddler, "Farley said hi back! Isn't he a  _good_ baby?"

Bobbing her head vigorously, Ulyssa replied, "Yeah!"

Giving the toddler one more kiss, Rachel put her back on the floor and said, "Why don't you finish your tower for me, hm?"

For a moment, Ulyssa looked like she might throw a fit, but, then, as if by luck, one of the blocks made a pig-noise, drawing her attention away from them.

Watching the toddler go back to her blocks, Millicent remarked, "I was expecting her to slap him rather than be gentle."

"I was too," Rachel admitted with a little giggle. "But I guess all that practice we've been doing with her dollies has paid off!"

Millicent smiled. "You've been practicing for our visit, eh, Rachel?"

"It's not that difficult. Marcus often brings her by, and I knew it was only a matter of time before you'd come over with your little bruiser to visit…" she trailed off, looking a little troubled.

Deducing after a moment that what bothered her cousin was the frequency of Ephram's niece's visit, Millicent reminded her, "You could always tell Marcus that you don't want to watch his disgusting little spawn."

Rachel's face seemed to wilt. "I've…thought about that," she admitted. "Sometimes, I'd rather just spend the day doing other things and not have to worry about a baby, but when I have said no, the next time I see Ulyssa she'll have a mark or just be overly clingy.

"I don't like what it might mean, and I hate even more that I could have kept it from happening by agreeing to watch her - for however long her parents might leave her here in the process."

Millicent scowled. "Disgusting!" she spat. Though, she completely understood why it happened. Ulyssa, from what she had seen, was not the easy baby that Farley was showing himself to be. She was loud, messy, squirmy and a number of other unpleasant things that Millicent knew she wouldn't be able to handle if Ulyssa were her baby.

"Ephram won't hear it, however. He doesn't want to, I suppose. The idea of your brother being so heartless as to hurt his own child  _is_  rather hard to swallow," she admitted with a little sigh.

Looking to the giggling toddler on the floor by their feet, Millicent tried to imagine what she might be like if Rachel wasn't so kind. If her cousin wasn't such a bleeding heart.

Ulyssa would be a faint shadow of this toddler, Millicent bet.

Pursing her lips, she told her cousin, "Maybe her visits are a…blessing, Rachel. You've told me it's not possible for you and Ephram to have any children of your own, so this just could be some will of fate to remedy that."

This drew a smile from Rachel as she took out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes. "Quite right, Millicent," she replied in little more than a whisper. "I knew you'd be able to find reason in this awful situation."

"Hmph," she replied in a noncommittal way. She didn't think she'd found reason, simply a possibility. But if Rachel wanted to believe that was why she was getting Ephram's niece dumped on her, she could. Millicent didn't feel it was her place to ruin her cousin's newly formed conclusion of things.

Especially since it'd not be Rachel's life that was ruined because of it.

Bringing her son close for comfort as she watched the toddler playing on the floor, Millicent pitied Ulyssa. No one wanted her, not even Rachel, when it came down to it. The poor, poor girl, Millicent thought as she brushed her lips across her son's head. Merlin, she hoped that nothing happened to her or Gregory.

Farley would end up just like Ulyssa if something did.

 


	2. Row of the Year

Her chubby-faced son on her hip, Millicent screamed, "You're  _never_ home! And I'm always  _stuck_ with this  _dumb_ son of yours!"

"What do you want me to do!?" Gregory roared back as he yanked off his work robe. "They took more than half of the Goyle fortune as restitution for my family's part in the war, and they garnish a quarter from my salary too!"

Letting out a loud, angry noise, Millicent gave her messy ponytail a hard pull as she shouted back at her husband, "I'm not asking you to put in less hours for forever, Gregory! Just for now! I  _can't_ keep this up! I'll go mad if I have to spend another day alone with only your stupid son for company!"

"Take him out with you!" Gregory snapped back as he headed for the cupboard where he kept his favorite Scottish Whiskey.

Following after him, step for step, Millicent shrilled, "Don't you dare pour yourself a glass! I want a moment for myself and I won't  _ever_ get that if you get yourself smashed!"

Ignoring her as he opened the cupboard's door and reached for a crystal tumbler, Gregory grunted, "I  _need_ a glass if I'm going to deal with your harping!"

Eyes going comically wide, Millicent knew that there was no way she'd be able to do what she wanted with Farley in her arms. Putting the baby on the floor, she cast an age line and protective spell around him before strengthening the Silencing Charm she put on him upon his father coming home.

Giving him a strained smile, she said, "Now be a good lad for me." With that, she turned and flicked her wand at her husband's tumbler.

"Ouch!" he yelped, all but throwing the crystal to the floor. Whirling around then, face a furious crimson, he snapped, "That's the best whiskey you can buy in all of Scotland!"

Grinning wide and fierce, Millicent put her hands on her hips and snarked, "Really now?"

"Yes!"

Laughing at her husband, the woman told him, "You are such a dunderhead!"

"What does that make you, then, Millicent? You're the one who agreed to  _marry_ me!" he bit back.

Stamping her foot, Millicent shrilled, "What choice did I have? My parents were dead and all I have is that dirty shop that's as profitable as a lame plow horse! At least the light left you  _something_ to live off of! I had nothing!"

"You should be thanking me, then! Not acting like a banshee! Without me you'd just be another whore on Knockturn's streets!"

"Oh, please! I'm not as dull as you! I would have  _never_ become so desperate!" Millicent argued back. "I wish I had never married you!"

The color drained completely from Gregory's face then.

Troubled by this sudden turn in her rather predictable husband's demeanor, Millicent lost her fighting stance and called, "Gregory?"

He said nothing.

Stepping forward, she waved a hand in front of his face. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Don't you ever say that again, Millicent," he ordered as he grabbed her wrist.

Jolting at the sudden contact, the woman attempted to pull away. "Let me go, Gregory!" she snapped.

His grip only tightened as a true snarl overtook his heavy features. "Don't, Millicent. If you say that again I'll kill you. Our marriage may have happened for selfish reasons, but I'd never change it."

More intrigued now than scared, Millicent inquired, "Why is that, Gregory?"

He tipped his head to something behind her.

She looked.

There was their son, Farley, staring back at them with his deep baby blues. His young face was one of disinterest as he sucked on his hand. Usually, Millicent would have hurried over to replace his hand with a dummy, but now she tried to understand. They were having a row right in front of him, but he was not in the least bit distressed. How often did they have to fight like this for him to have stopped feeling fear at the sight of their angry faces?

Probably far too often, Millicent had to admit to herself.

"The baby?" she murmured.

Gregory nodded. "I never thought it'd happen, but I love him more than I do my own parents. More than I ever loved my best mate, Vince. I'd marry you over and over if it meant he'd exist," he confided in her.

Pursing her lips, Millicent remarked, "You know, if you love Farley so much, you'd  _think_ you'd want to spend more time with him."

"We need the money, Millicent," Gregory insisted. "My mother and father spend like they still have five vaults at Gringrotts. At this rate, Farley's grandchildren will be lucky if they have half the nice things we do. Him and all that come after deserve the very best, Millicent. Merlin knows us Goyles aren't any geniuses, so it's not like we're going to invent anything or start any kind of business that will give us back our old fortune…" he trailed off, shoulders slumped.

Millicent sighed. She hated to admit it, but she understood.

"That's…admirable, Gregory," she complimented.

He looked her way, surprise evident. "You…think so?" he murmured.

Nodding, she went to cancel the spells on her son and sweep him into her arms. "Yes," she affirmed. "Someday I'm sure Farley will appreciate what you're doing even more than I."

"Da," the infant babbled then, little fingers reaching out to Gregory.

Millicent couldn't stop the smile that quirked at the end of her lips. "See? Already he adores you."

Taking Farley, Gregory just stared at his son for a long moment. "You just might be right," he chuckled as Farley gave a pleased shriek as he managed to grab his father's nose with his tiny hands.

"Of course I am," Millicent scoffed even as she hid a broad smile behind her hand.

Bouncing his son in his arms, Gregory offered, "How about this, Millicent? I'll take a day off every month for the next year or so. It'll give you some time to rest away from Farley. Will that make things better?"

Millicent was shocked by the offer, it was better than anything she'd ever expected out of Gregory after their row. Letting her shoulders shake with the laughter that wanted to burst out of her, Millicent swept forward and pressed a kiss to her husband's cheek. "That's perfect, Gregory. Thank you," she said.

He smiled back at her, Farley yammering her arms and for a moment, Millicent felt like they had the perfect partnership her parents had.


	3. Nighthorses

_Giggling to himself as he rolled around in a pool of Puffskeins, Farley couldn't have been happier. Sitting up, he grinned at the chorus of hums and purrs that filled the room. Getting to his feet, he walked over the uneven ground of puffskeins to the slide he saw at one end of the pool. Clambering up the mettle rungs, he hoped that tomorrow night after Mother put him to bed, he could come back here again._

_Reaching the top of the ladder, Farley was ready to hoist himself onto the red plastic of the swirly slide. However, when Farley looked up, he was made to gasp._

_A tall, shadowy figure with shimmery silver eyes was grinning down on him with sharp teeth. Shrinking back, Farley did his best not to be scared as he said to the nightmarish being, "Wanna go down the slide!"_

_The sharp teeth parted to let loose a loud cackling laugh. Shaking now, Farley gripped the sides of the ladder in a death-grip. "Please?" he warbled._

_Crouching down, the figure's silver eyes flashed red. "No," it said. Then, before he could so much as ask_ why _, the shadow beings hands shot out and pushed Farley._

_Losing his grip, Farley flailed before his feet slipped from the wrung. Falling faster and faster, Farley began to scream. He was going to hit the ground and there he would splatter like the egg he'd dropped the other day when helping his Mother put away groceries! Twisting his head, his shrieks only grew in volume as the ground came ever closer and just as he thought he was going to hit it-_

"Farley! Farley, you daft boy! Wake  _up_!"

Eyes popping open, the boy gazed into the haggard face of his mother in silent shock. Realizing he was back in his bed again, Farley burst into tears.

"T-The sh-shadow m-m-man pushed  _me_!" he wailed as he reached for his mother.

Helping Farley untangle himself from his sheets, his mother brushed back his sweaty hair as she said, "You just had a nightmare, Farley. Stop fussing."

"A what-mare?" Farley sniffled. He'd never heard about a nightmare before.

Sighing as she pressed him back down onto his pillow, his mother replied, "It's like a dream, but it's scary."

"...Dream?" he muttered still so confused.

Staring down at him, his mother's face grew very troubled. "How idiotic are you?" she grumbled. "Merlin, I knew that the Goyles weren't known for their brains and I shouldn't expect to have any geniuses, but are you lot  _really_ this dumb?"

Still very befuddled and tired, Farley said, "I was in the nice place with the puffskein pool an' I was gonna go down the slide. 'cept when I got to the top, the shadow man was there. He pushed me."

His mother nodded at his explanation. "That nice place with the puffskein pool is what a dream is. The shadow man pushing you was a nightmare. None of it was real," she told him in that grinding, 'I can't explain it better, so you ought to just say you get it now' tone of hers.

"It felt real," Farley eventually told his mother once she started tucking his blankets back beneath his chin.

His mother paused in fixing his blankets and came to brush her large hand through his hair again. "Yes, they do sometimes," she agreed. "The trick is to tell yourself it's not when it happens, though."

"I'll do that next time," Farley proclaimed. Then, after yawning, he said, "Thank you for 'splaining dreams and nighthorses, Mother."

"Night _mares_ , Farley," she muttered as she stood up. "Sleep tight now," his mother finished with before leaving his room.

Snuggling into his pillow as he settled down to sleep again, Farley whispered before falling back into dreamland, "I just gotta tell myself it isn't real..."

It didn't work, of course, but at least he knew that it wasn't real and he'd wake up in his bed with his mother there waiting to tuck him back in again.


	4. Unplanned Eavesdropping

Farley knew he shouldn't be out of bed, but he was so  _hungry._ He hadn't really cared much for dinner tonight. His mother was on one of her diets and had requested their house elf, Babs, make something called  _vegetable_   _pilaf._ Unlike his family's usual savory and flavorful dinners of meat pies or casseroles, pilaf was bland and gooey.

When his mother noticed at dinner Farley was just pushing the pilaf around on his plate rather than eating it, she'd yanked him up from his seat and told him to go to bed. Unfortunately for Farley, there had been no chance for him to apologize and attempt to eat the disgusting dish again. His mother had called for Babs immediately after she got Farley to h. is feet and had ordered the elf to see Farley to his room personally - unless Babs  _wanted_  to spend the night ironing his ears.

Unlike a lot of house elves Farley knew and heard about, Babs did not punish himself unless commanded to. Not even when he failed to heed his owner's orders. The deep-seated fear Babs had of physical pain was strange for a house elf according to his mother. It was due to his fears, Babs made a poor excuse for a house elf overall, his father would say sometimes.

Farley, though, quite liked Babs. Babs was always kind to Farley and treated everything he had to say as if it was all important. So when Babs heard Farley hadn't liked the pilaf, he told Farley he would make him something else for Farley to eat after his parents went to bed. Pleased by this, Farley had thanked Babs profusely for the offer and told him he was his favorite elf ever. The runty grey-purple creature had preened under the praise and further swore that what he left for Farley to eat he would be sure to love.

And it was because of that promise Farley was now sneaking through the downstairs hallway to the kitchen. Farley wasn't too good at tell planned to head back for his room when he heard his mother say his name.

"-Farley doesn't have to be our _only_  son."

Faced away from the kitchen and pressed close to the wall, he hardly heard his father's mumbled reply, "It's Goyle tradition to have only first child is a daughter."

Scoffing loudly, Farley's mother said, "Tradition! What's the Goyle tradition when that  _one_  son turns out to be a squib?"

A chair groaned.

"It hasn't happened in a very long time…"

"So? What's your tradition? The Bulstrodes don't do anything with their squibs beyond keeping them out of the public eye. My mother's family, the Trackleshanks, however, had much different methods. Did you know, Gregory, the last time my mother's side of the family had a squib, he drowned? Accidentally, of course."

Father snorted. "It's a shame the Goyles don't partake in the Trackleshanks's method of pruning the family tree," he muttered.

"We  _could,_ though," Farley's mother argued. "Farley's only six and I'm not even thirty-five. It wouldn't be hard to forget him and have a more promising heir."

" _No,_  Millicent!" Father snapped. "I will-"

Farley, with blood rushing hard and fast in his ears, made the stupid decision to run. Thankfully, though, as his bare feet slapped against the polished floors just outside the kitchen, his parents' row escalated to shouting and screaming.

He could be as loud as he liked now. His parents wouldn't be hearing him running up the stairs.

Once Farley was back in his room a few minutes later, he dove under his covers and began to shake. It didn't take much longer for him to realize he was sobbing too. Farley knew what his mother had been trying to get at downstairs. He wasn't good enough. He was bad because he was dumb and because he pushed around his food at dinner and because - because he was a  _squib_ (whatever that was).

Now, since Farley was such a disappointment, his mother wanted to  _replace_ him with another son.

A son that would be better than Farley ever could be.


	5. Story Budy

Leading Farley into the children's section of Flourish and Blotts, his father gave him a stern look upon reaching their destination. "You will stay here and listen to the children's reading while I take care of business at another store. If I am not back when it's done, I expect you to still be in the Children's section or I  _will_ punish you, is that clear? I don't care if someone tells you that I asked them to get you, because I will  _not_ be telling anyone to do that, understood?" he demanded.

Farley nodded solemnly. "Yes, Father," he replied. "I won't leave for nothing."

His father's lips twitched. "It's you won't leave for  _anything_ , Farley. Merlin, don't let your mother here you use nothing like that again or she'll have a fit."

"Okay, I won't leave for  _anything_ ," he said with a smile. This was why he liked his Father best. He was very stern about some things and often threatened him with a spanking if he misbehaved, but he always let the little things go with ease. If Farley spilled his pumpkin juice at lunch? His father just vanished it. If Farley spoke a little too shrilly for where they were? He gave the back of his neck a squeeze to tell him to correct his volume.

Mother on the other hand...if Farley spilled his juice, he'd get an earful. If he was too loud, his mother would make them go home and tell him he should have been better behaved. Mistakes were not allowed to happen with his mother. Farley had to be perfect. But...being perfect was so  _hard_. In fact, Farley didn't believe he'd ever had been.

Farley always did something wrong.

The sweet sound of chimes being rung drew Farley's attention back to the world. Looking over to where story time happened at Flourish and Blotts, he saw that other children were starting to sit down on the rainbow braided rug in the middle of the floor.

"I'll see you in half an hour, Farley," his father said, giving his hair a short tousle before turning around and leaving.

Watching his father's retreating back for a moment, Farley waited until he was lost behind the stacks of books before turning back to story time.

Scoping out the children, it didn't take Farley more than a minute to find his story buddy, Freddie. Freddie was pretty distinctive, after all. Most kids didn't have such springy, black curls.

Grinning to himself, he went over and took his usual seat beside the older boy. "Hi, Freddie," he greeted.

"Hullo, Farley," Freddie said back.

Looking around then with big eyes, Farley asked, "Where's Anne?" Usually, Freddie's sister was near by - if not lying across her older brother's lap. Anne was only four and didn't really like sitting still for story time. But, usually, she would if she could lay on top of her brother and play with his curls.

"Oh, she's got a cold. She's home with Mum today. But I begged 'cause today's story is my  _favorite_. So, Dad is in the charm's section and will come back for me when story time is over," he explained.

"That's neat," Farley replied. "I'm sorry Anne's sick, though."

Freddie laughed. "I'm not! She's been pulling on my curls extra hard lately!"

Farley gave a shy smile back. He didn't really like talking about people when they weren't around. It made him feel bad because he knew how icky he'd felt when he'd heard his mother and father talking about him. They had been upset that he hadn't done any accidental magic yet. It'd been after they finished complaining about Farley's lack of feats that his mother had remarked,  _"You know, the last time my mother's side of the family had a squib, he drowned. Accidentally."_

_Father had scoffed. "Isn't it a shame the Goyle's don't partake in the Trankelshanks's methods of pruning the family tree," he muttered._

_"We_ could _, though," Mother had argued. "Farely's only six and I'm not even thirty-five. It wouldn't be hard to forget him and have another, more promising heir."_

 _"_ No _, Millicent!" his father had snapped._

Having not wanted to hear more, Farley had turned heel and ran all the way back to his bedroom.

He'd never cried more in his short life.

"-ly? Farely!"

Snapping back to the present when he felt a hand on his knee, Farley met Freddie's worried gaze. "Huh?" he mumbled.

Dark eyes big and concerned, Freddie asked, "You okay? You got spacey like Dad sometimes does."

"Yeah, m'fine," Farley grunted. "Mister Whitby is gonna start reading in a second, so we should be quiet now," he proclaimed as he clenched his jaw tight and settled it onto his fists.

Freddie gave him a confused look, but said nothing. After another few seconds of staring dubiously at Farley, Freddie joined him in watching Mister Whitby open the day's storybook and again, like Farley, lost himself in the story when he began to read it.

Thirty five minutes later, when the story was over and other children were being collected by their parents, Farley was playing with some of the hand puppets that were for sale with Freddie.

"Oink! Oink!" Freddie had yelled as he shoved a pink felt finger puppet in Farley's face. "I like to eat garbage!"

Laughing Farley had grabbed a frog one and shouted, "Well, ribbet! Ribbet! I live in the  _mud_!"

Freddie smirked and opened his mouth to say something, but a man's voice called out, "Fred! Kiddo! Where are you?"

A wide smile overtaking his features, Freddie poked his head out from behind the puppet stand and called, "I'm here, Dad!"

Putting his own puppet away, Farley follows his friend out from behind the stand to a pale, redheaded man standing not more two feet away. Farley blinked as Freddie went and hugged him. That was his dad? They didn't look a like at all!

He wanted to ask why that was, but he knew that was a bad idea. Mother said those kind of questions were rude and he didn't want to make Freddie's dad mad at him.

"Hey, Dad, meet Farley! He's my friend!" Freddie said with a grin as he dragged the all man closer.

Putting on his best smile, Farley mumbled, "Hullo. It's a pleasure t'meet you."

"Back at you, kiddo," Freddie's dad said with a grin. "Say, where's your mum or dad? Freddie's been talking about you for weeks. I think it's high time we set up some kind of playdate."

Farley started looking around, hoping that his father would appear. "Ummm..." he replied. "My father should be back soon."

Nodding, the redheaded man reached for one of the puppets and told Farley, "I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves until then, hm?"

Farley smiled when the man winked at him. He liked Freddie's father; he was wicked.

Eagerly, Farley picked a puppet of his own as Freddie grabbed one too. Together, they played quite happily for the next several minutes when finally, his father appeared.

"Farley!" he barked. "What are you doing?"

Jumping, he put down the puppet immediately and looked over to his father. "Just playing, Father."

Lumbering forward, Farley's father glared at Freddie's. "Weasley," he growled as he put a hand on Farley's head.

Freddie's father stared at his, stunned. "You're this kid's father," he said.

"Of course." Farley's father sneered. "Can't you see the resemblance?"

Looking between him and his father, Freddie's father shook his head. "No, I don't," he replied simply.

Growling some more, Farley's father yanked him hard and said, "We must be going."

Walking them quickly from the shop then, Farley felt tears gather in his eyes when his father declared, "You certainly won't be going back to  _that_ story reading again!"

"But Father-"

Turning him around, his father shook him hard and roared, "There are no  _buts_! I will not have you socializing with  _dirt_ like them!"

Cowering then, Farley couldn't stop himself from crying - not even when his father threatened to spank him. And especially not when he carried through on his threat and took Farley over his knee.

Not once did he stop crying.

His father had stolen a friend from him and Farley didn't believe it could ever be made right again.

 


	6. Soaring

"Farley, come here."

Farley eyed his mother sideways. He did not like the sugary tone of her voice _at all_. Carefully turning so he was facing his parents head on, he took in the eager expression his mother wore and the way it contrasted with the scowling one of his father. The last time his mother and father looked like that was before he was forced into dress-robes and made to grin at a painter as they created a portrait of his family.

It had been a far from pleasant experience and the last thing he wanted to do was repeat it. Frowning, he took a step away from his parents.

His father's face darkened. "Farley, come here. _Now_."

Clenching and unclenching his hands, Farley considered his options. Mother and Father would hex his legs into jelly if he tried to run – like when he was really little and didn't want to take a bath. If he threw himself to the floor and started screaming, he would get a spanking. If Farley cooperated… Maybe it would be over quicker. Sticking out his lower lip to show his parents' his displeasure, Farley took a reluctant step forward, then another.

Suddenly, his mother snatched him from the ground.

"Ready your wand, Gregory!" she shouted.

Terribly confused and a little scared as his mother ran them toward the upstairs landing, Farley only had a moment to register what was happening before he went soaring over the stair's railing. Screaming, Farley twisted in mid-air, catching a glimpse of his parents staring down at him as he fell.

 _'_ Why?' he wondered. 'Why?'

Suddenly, Farley felt his body hit what felt like cushions. How could that be? The downstairs floor was wood and there was no way his parents would have put down cushions on the floor to save him if they threw him off the landing in first place.

Sitting up, Farley looked down and realized that the floor was still wood. It just felt soft like sofa cushions. Magic had saved him.

Above, he heard his mother crow, "He's a wizard! I _told_ you if we forced him, he'd do magic!"

His father said nothing. He just continued to gaze down at Farley.

Farley stared back. He didn't get it. If his parents had wanted to see him do magic, why hadn't they just _asked_? He could have made his shirt stain-free after a lunch of stew or made his favorite books (his parents Hogwarts yearbooks) float down from the top shelf of the drawing room's bookcase.

Why did Mother always act like Farley had to be forced to do things? Like eat his peas at dinner or be nice to Scorpius Malfoy at Ministry Christmas Parties. It was like she thought he was a stupid dog or something! Maybe he was sort of a dummy, as Ulyssa often told Farley when he forgot the rules to easy card games, but he _liked_ doing stuff for people. Especially if they asked nicely and said please (like Missis Flint).

"You alright there, son?" Father called when Mother's cheering died down.

He nodded.

"Then get up here. Your mother and I have a gift for you."

Farley gnawed his lip, leery of what his gift could be.

"If you don't get up here in the next ten seconds, I'll throw it over the landing _at_ you, Farley Goyle!" his mother snapped.

Scrambling to his feet, Farley raced toward the stairs. The last thing he wanted was to have his present thrown at him. When he was back beside his parents, Farley relaxed. Between them was a long, thin box with a big green bow on it.

"Wow," he whispered.

His father pushed the box toward him. "Open it, Farley."

"Okay!" Farley replied. Taking hold, he pulled off the ribbon and pried open the lid of his present. "A broom!" he exclaimed, overjoyed.

Father's hand ruffled Farley's hair. "You'll be old enough for the ten and under swivenhodge team try outs this summer. I thought it best we finally buy you a broom of your own to practice for them on."

Hugging his gift close, Farley beamed. "Thank you, Father, Mother."

They smiled back, pleased at his use of manners. "You're welcome, Farley," Mother said. "You deserve it, my _magical_ little wizard."

Forcing his grin even wider to keep it from falling, Farley did his best to ignore the icky feeling in his tummy. Not even ten minutes earlier his mother had thrown him over the upstairs landing to make him do magic. This gift – as nice as it was – was given to Farley to cover up the bad feelings that came with thinking you may die; the sadness of knowing your parents were the ones to make you think you might. This was a _bribe_. Just like that money a rich witch gave a Ministry official to make them keep quiet about her selling illegal potion ingredients (dragon eggs, the hearts of infants, unicorn horns) from the news story on the Wireless.

This new broom was Farley's as long as he kept quiet about Mother and Father throwing him over the stair's railing. If he didn't want to lose it before try outs, he'd have to be good and not tell _anyone._ Even Ulyssa could never know. Keeping his smile nice and dimpled, Farley asked, "Can we go try my broom out?"

Father nodded. "Yes," he said. "Come along."

When his father's hand was offered to him, Farley didn't even hesitate to take it. He would not forget this day any time soon, but he had to pretend like it was already years and years ago until it really felt like that and all the bad feelings were gone.


	7. Run-In at Scrivenshaft's

A familiar head of dark curls popping up from behind a a display of diaries, Farley felt his mouth lift into a grin. "Ulyssa!" he cried, leaving his father's side in favor of going to chat with the girl. Perhaps, while they were talking, he could even invite her to lunch with him and his father!

"Hi, Ulyssa!" he greeted, stopping behind the girl.

She did not turn around, however. Smile running away from his face, Farley reached out and gave the girl's shoulder a tap. "Ulyssa?" he repeated, wondering if he'd been wrong in assuming it was her from the hair and navy robe.

Shoulders slumping at his touch, the girl turned around, dark curls in her face and eyes downcast. "Hullo," she said.

Farley frowned. "Aren't you glad to see me?" he asked. "I haven't see you in  _forever_! Not since Missis Rachel and Mister Ephram went on holiday! Are they back? Is that why you're here?"

With great and obvious pains to keep her hair in its position, Ulyssa slowly shook her head. "They come back on Monday," she told Farley. "I'm just here with Mother."

Looking around for the sour-faced woman he knew to be his mate's mother, Farley questioned, "Um, d'you think she'd let you come to lunch with me and Father? It's just supposed to be  _our_ special day, but I don't mind sharing lunch with you. Father wouldn't mind either, I think. He said I was getting on his nerves at our last stop because I kept asking questions. He'd probably be happy if I talked to someone else for a while."

"Why would  _I_ want to listen to your dumb questions?" Ulyssa grumbled from behind her curtain of messy curls.

Farley gave a helpless shrug. Why would she indeed? Father didn't, after all. "How 'bout I promise not to ask dumb ones?" he suggested.

She sighed. "You'll ask them and not even know they are, though," Ulyssa huffed.

"No questions  _at all_ ," Farley swore, hoping this would sway her into accepting his invitation.

Ulyssa began to fidget. "I-" she stopped and bit her lip. "No thank you…"

Farley gave a confused frown and began to look around the shop in earnest as he prattled, "Why? Are you afraid your mother's gonna say 'no'? If you are, I can ask. Then you won't be the one being told no. It'll be me."

"It's not…" she trailed off. Peeking out from her shield of hair, she said to Farley, "I'm going to  _show_ you why, Farley Goyle, but when I do, you  _must_ not say anything or make any loud noises."

He nodded. "I won't," he promised with a solemn little frown.

When Ulyssa pulled her hair back, Farley had to chomp down on his tongue to keep from gasping at the scratches he saw. They were puckered and started from just below Ulyssa's left eye and ran almost all the way down to her mouth.

"This is what happened when  _I_ asked to see you. Then Opal Montague. Then my cousins. And finally, Aunt Rachel and Uncle Ephram even though I know they aren't here and wouldn't want me interrupting their holiday. If you ask Mother if I can go to lunch she might do something even  _worse_."

Reaching out with hesitant fingers, Farley kept them hovering above the cuts when he saw Ulyssa wince. "Why hasn't your mother fixed them?" he demanded anxiously. "They could get infested!"

"It's  _infected_ ," Ulyssa corrected with a vaguely amused glimmer to her eyes.

"Infested, infected,  _who cares_. Why hasn't she fixed them!"

"Because Ulyssa needs to learn her lesson about what happens to petulant little girls!" a voice from above lectured.

Jumping, Farley turned around to see Missis Flint glaring down at them. Hand shooting out then, she wrapped it around Ulyssa's forearm and said, "Come now,  _darling_ , we must be going. Mother has many more errands to run!"

Sneering at Farley next, she said in a sickly sweet voice that was just a bit too loud, " _Do_ say hello to your father for me, Farley. By the way, where is he? Has he  _forgotten_ you here? I hope not! That'd be  _awfully_ irresponsible of him!"

Other patrons began to glance their way and Farley realized, from the look of dawning horror on Ulyssa's face, that her mother was trying to get  _his_ father in trouble.

Jutting his chin out stubbornly, Farley proclaimed in his strongest voice, "He wouldn't do that. My father isn't  _mean_ like you!"

"Farley-!" Ulyssa sputtered, expression gobsmacked.

Coral-colored lips twisted in a snarl, Missis Flint hissed, "Why you little-"

"Farley!"

Coming up behind him, his father swept him off his feet. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

Fingers weaving into Father's robe, Farley explained, "Telling Missis Flint you wouldn't leave me behind in a shop. You love me too much to do that."

Looking uncomfortable at the declaration, Farley's father eyes darted around. "Uh, well," he blustered. "It's  _true_ , I'll admit, but that's not-" he stopped and shook his head. "Let's just go get in the queue, hm?"

"Okay," Farley agreed.

Giving Farley's neck a squeeze, Father said to Ulyssa's mother, "Sorry about him being so loud. We're still working on proper volume for establishments like this."

Narrowing her eyes, the woman remarked, "You might try a little harder, Goyle. Ulyssa, let us go now!" And with that, they were gone.

Waving at Ulyssa as she looked back at him from outside the shop's front window, Farley willed for her aunt and uncle to come home sooner rather than later.

"You shouldn't talk like that to people, Farley," his father said as they headed for the queue.

Cocking his head, Farley asked, "Why? She said you probably forgot me when it wasn't true."

"I know," Father replied. "It's just…people watch us. We're sort of famous, you see. If you aren't polite - even to mean people - they'll talk and, well, your mother and I don't want talk about us. We've had enough and just want it to stop."

Feeling guilty now, Farley mumbled. "Oh, sorry."

Setting him down, now that they had reached the queue, Father gave Farley's head a quick pat. "You didn't know," he said.

Nodding in acceptance of this fact, Farley began to look around the shop with a new perspective. Looking at the people who were shopping just like them, Farley realized for the first time that their eyes  _were_ watching. Not boldly, though, just through the corners. Often like Mother did when she was watching him comb his hair or dress for the day, Farley noted. They were looking just enough to be able to swoop in to correct if they wanted, but not enough to be accused of judging.

Turning his head forward once more, Farley didn't know if he liked this new revelation and kind of wished he'd never went to say hello to Ulyssa at all.


	8. Winter Snow Cones

Coming into his family's dingy olivegreen kitchen, Farley grinned broadly when he saw his father was sitting at the table drinking tea as he read the paper.

"Father!" he shouted happily. Running forward, he almost tripped as his foot slid out of his slipper, but before he could, his father was whisking him up into his arms.

Smirking, his father greeted, "Farley."

Unable to contain his exuberance at the fact his father was home _all_ day for his birthday, he wrapped his arms around his thick neck. "You're here just like you said!" he exclaimed.

Patting his back before setting him down in one of the kitchen chairs, his father said, "I said I would be. It's not everyday you turn seven, after all."

Smiling still, he replied, "I know. I'm just extra happy."

"That's good," his mother remarked as she came over to put a plate of waffles in front of him. "You should be on your birthday."

Staring at the special birthday treat, Farley grabbed up his fork and jabbed it into the fluffy treat. "Waffles are the best!" he proclaimed as he lifted the entire thing up to chomp into it.

"Yes, that might be so," his mother agreed as she gently took the fork and waffle from him. "However, a  _proper_ pureblood boy cuts up his waffle instead of eating it off his fork like a monkey."

"Sorry, Mother," he apologized.

Finished with cutting up his breakfast, she gave his hair a quick tousle. "No worries, Farley. Today is your day, we won't make a fuss about it now."

Farley grinned at her, and when he saw her eyes were shimmering with glee as well, his grin stretched so wide that his cheeks dimpled as they often did when he smiled with all his teeth. "Thank you, Mother!" he chirped.

Having gone back to his paper, Farley's father muttered, "I wish you'd do the same for  _my_ birthday, Millicent."

"Hush, you. You're a man. Not a little boy. You should  _already_ know how to eat properly!"

Paper shifting as he turned the page, Farley's father only scoffed.

Giggling a little when he realized they weren't going to have a row this morning, Farley thought about how much he loved his birthday. On his birthday, his parents were always their nicest. They let him behave however he liked (with in reason), they were much more affectionate and if his father could, he'd wrangle the day off work so he could take Farley wherever he wanted for the day.

Farley had given it a lot of thought over the past week and he now knew where he wanted his father to take him. He wanted to go to an ice cream parlor and get a snow cone. It'd been forever and an age since he last had one and even though it was quite cold out, a snow cone seemed like the perfect way to celebrate his birthday.

"So, Farley, have you decided where you and Father are going to go today?" Mother asked as she took her usual seat with a cup of tea in hand.

Bobbing his head, the boy said, "I have! We're going to the ice cream parlor."

His father put down his paper as Mother raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Don't you think it's a bit cold?"

"Yeah, a little. But I want a snow cone," he told them.

Mother smirked. "He's certainly your boy, isn't he Greg? Thinks with his stomach - just like you."

Father scowled, but said nothing. Fidgeting, Farley asked, "So? We're going to go, right?"

"Yes, Farley," Father replied. "Finish your breakfast. Your presents are waiting for you in the dining room."

Not having to be told a second time, Farley stuffed his cheeks so full of waffle that he nearly choked before he dashed off to the next room with his parents close behind.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"Thank you, Father!" Farley said as he accepted the cherry-red dome of ice handed to him.

Taking a seat across from him, his father nodded as he leaned forward to place his chin in his palm. "You're welcome," he replied.

Taking a bite, the boy smiled at the sweet flavor and rough texture. "Father, do you know that my birthday is my most favorite day of the year? Even more than Guy Fawkes Day?"

Passing him a napkin, his father commented, "I think most peoples' favorite day is their birthday."

"Maybe," Farley agreed after a moment. "But it's not just my favorite because of that. It's also my favorite because it's the only day out of the  _whole_ year you and Mother don't fight."

His father opened his mouth, but said nothing.

Undeterred, the boy continued, "I bet that's not why most people say their birthday is their favorite day of the year. I was talkin' about birthdays with Ulysse when Mother and me went to visit her aunt, Misses Flint. She said her favorite part about birthdays is the presents, but I think those are only okay. I like playing with you and Mother more than I do toys. When I told her my favorite part is you don't fight with Mother  _all_ day, she said that's a weird thing to like because parents are only supposed to have rows when you're sleeping or gone."

Stirring his spoon in the pink water that was left over from his snow cone, Farley cocked his head. "She was wrong, right? Parents can fight whenever they like."

"Yes," his father murmured while keeping his eyes on the tabletop. "Parents can fight whenever they like."

Grinning broadly, Farley clapped his hands. "I was right!" Frowning then, he leaned in and whispered to his father, "I'm not right a lot, you know."

The man sighed and looked up with tired eyes. "Us Goyles rarely are," he said. "Come on, we best be going now that you're done."

"Okay!" Farley agreed as he got up and threw his spoon and and cone in the rubbish bin.

Taking his hand upon returning, Farely's father asked him, "How would you like to stop at the park for a bit of swinging before we go home?"

"That'd be wicked!" Farley exclaimed joyfully.

This birthday, he believed, would go down in history as the  _best_ birthday ever.


	9. Holiday Envy

"Farley!" Ulyssa shouted.

Turning around, the boy smiled at the the pleasant surprise that was his friend. "Hullo, Ulyssa! What are you doing at the park?"

The girl pointed toward the bench where her father, Marcus Flint, was smoking a cigarette. "Father was tired of being cooped up in the manor. Mother's helping Grandmother take care of my Great-Grandmother. She's sick, you see."

"Ah," Farley replied. "Are your aunt and uncle busy too?"

The girl bobbed her head, causing her messy dark hair to fall out of its loose ponytail. "Yes, she and Uncle Ephram are away on holiday. They've promised to bring me back a souvenir!" she enthused.

Farley grinned at his friend's joy, he was happy her aunt was going to bring her something home. She'd deserve it after having to spend so much time in her father's company. Mister Marcus Flint was very different from his brother. While they were both taciturn, Mister Ephram Flint's silence was thoughtful and he made up for it with smiles and expressive movements of his eyebrows. Mister Marcus Flint however...his silence was empty. He gave no indication he heard you or was thinking of anything, his face was so stoic. Farley often wondered how they could be so different when they looked so alike, but he had yet to find an answer that satisfied him.

Tuning back into Ulyssa, he made sure to smile at her."...They've gone to Portugal," Ulyssa babbled as she climbed the ladder of the monkey bars. "They said they'd be staying by the beach. Aunt Rachel said she'd bring me home a starfish! Isn't that wicked?"

Climbing up behind Ulyssa, Farley bypassed her in favor of hanging off one of the bars as Ulyssa continued to cling to the bar beside the ladder's top rung. Sighing happily, the little girl continued, "She said if her and Uncle Ephram liked Portugal, they were going to buy a vacation home there. And if that happens, they'll take me on holiday with them next time! Isn't that neat, Farley?" she gushed.

It  _was_ neat. But even so, Farley could only think about how unfair it was. He wished  _he_  had family that was on holiday to bring him back a souvenir. Alas, both his parents were only children and his grandparents were all very severe. None of them dabbled much in holidays - let alone bringing home presents. Ulyssa had a fun aunt and uncle to take her places and all he had were his parents. Yes, he loved his parents, but they weren't  _fun_. Mother was always telling him to behave like a proper pureblood boy and father worked most of the time. It just wasn't fair that Ulyssa was going to not only get a souvenir, but that she was going to get to go to Portugal at some point in the future.

An ugly little ball of envy and irritation unfurled in his gut as Ulyssa continued to chatter about all the exciting things her aunt and uncle were doing. As she went on and on, he felt his anger finally bubble over when she laughed and told him that  _she_ would bring him back a souvenir when she went to Portugal!

Not thinking, he swung forward on the monkey bar he hung from and kicked her in the stomach.

Shock flitted across Ulyssa's features as she lost balance and fell.

His own mouth falling open, Farley was not surprised when he felt himself being wrenched from his bar.

"Farley!" his mother shrilled. "What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?"

"I-I-" he stuttered.

Swatting his bum, his mother shoved him toward the bench she'd been previously sitting at. "Go take a seat, young man!" she ordered.

Farley hesitated, but a moment later he began to slowly trot toward the bench just like his mother told him to. Straining his ears, he heard his mother ask, "Are you alright, Ulyssa? I don't know what got into him..."

"I'm fine, thank you, Misses Goyle," Ulyssa replied tearily.

Ulyssa's father's gruff voice growled, "You should have better control of your little brute, Goyle."

"I'd watch how you talk to me, Flint," his mother snapped back. "At least  _I_ actually take care of my child, unlike some people's wives!"

Mister Flint made a guttural noise.

Turning around out of fear for his mother, Farley relaxed when he saw the man stalking away with Ulyssa in hand. Like his mother, he watched Mister Flint gather up his things and disapparate away with Ulyssa. When they were gone, his mother turned around.

"I told you to go to the bench!" she snapped.

Farley, not looking forward to being spanked again, turned heel and hurried to comply to his mother's command.


	10. Shock in the Closet

Letting go of his mother's hand as soon as they have stepped out of the floo, Farley made a bee-line for the gangly little girl sitting at the kitchen table having tea.

"Hello, Ulyssa," he greeted as he slipped into the chair beside her.

Putting down her mug, the girl bobbed her head and said, "Hello, Farley."

Reaching for a biscuit from the middle of the table, Farley made sure to finish it before he spoke again. His mother would have his head if she noticed that he was talking with his mouth full and the last thing he wanted was to get spanked in front of Ulyssa and her aunt.

"Are your parents away again?" Farley asked as he reached of a second biscuit.

The girl shook her head as she took a biscuit as well. "No, today Mother was in a foul mood and just didn't want me around," she explained without any indication of it bothering her.

It was strange to Farley how easily Ulyssa took her parents frequent rejection of her, but he supposed her Aunt and Uncle, Mister and Misses Flint, made up for her lackluster parents.

After all, Misses Flint was the sweetest woman Farley had ever met and he liked her heaps more than he did his own mother. Sometimes he wished that  _his_ parents would just leave him here for days at a time - just like Ulyssa's.

It would give Farley a chance to get away from listening to his parents insult and berate each other, anyway.

Finished with her biscuit, Ulyssa hopped off her chair and declared, "We should go play Hide an' Seek!"

Stuffing the rest of his treat in his mouth, Farley nodded eagerly before they hurried past his mother and Ulyssa's aunt on their way to the staircase.

Upstairs was the best area to play Hide and Seek at Misses Flint's house. Upstairs had all five of the home's bedrooms, a study, two bathrooms and a tiny room that Mister Flint used to practice his trumpet in. Like his family, the Flint's came from old money, which meant that over the years all of these rooms had come to be overly stuffed with things both necessary and unnecessary.

It gave two eight-year-olds like Farley and Ulyssa endless hiding spots and uncountable hours of fun.

Reaching the top of the landing, Farley didn't stop running as he yelled back to his friend, "I was seeker first last time!"

"Aw, Farley!"

Laughing, he threw open one of the many doors as Ulyssa started counting.

A moment later, he ran out of the first room and threw open a couple other doors before picking one of the guest bedrooms as his hiding area. Going into the room, he looked around. Not the bed, that would be too easy, he figured. Maybe under the settee? No...Eyes going to the tall, narrow wardrobe against the far wall, Farley knew that it would be his hiding place.

Creeping over, he opened the door very slowly to keep it from being noisy. Once it was open, he smiled when he saw a number of robes and dresses hung up within it. Climbing in, Farley pulled the wardrobe doors almost completely closed before curling up in one corner of the closet.

Giggling silently to himself, Farley did his best to ignore how closed-in he felt. It would be worth it, he hoped. Such a great hiding place like this would surely cause Ulyssa to surrender, right?

Smiling to himself, Farley listened with strained ears for Ulyssa to come into the room. After a long while, she did. He could hear her muttering to herself as she moved around and eventually, he heard her come up beside the wardrobe.

"Why did I suggest Hide an' Seek?" she grumbled.

Abruptly, the doors to the wardrobe closed completely.

"Farley! Are you in there?" the girl called as he heard start her tugging at the door handles. "Ooh! Stop holding it closed! I  _found_ you!"

Farley frowned as he crawled over to try pushing at the heavy wood. "I'm not holding it closed!" he yelled back to Ulyssa.

"Then why is it not opening?" she demanded.

Feeling a little scared now, the boy said, "Maybe it got jammed?"

"Maybe..." she replied, her suspicion clear in her tone.

Giving the wood a pound with his fist, he told Ulyssa, "Would you get your aunt? It's really small in here and I don't like it anymore."

"Hang on, let me try a bit longer."

"No, Ulyssa!" Farley cried. "Get your aunt! I don't like it in here! It's dark and small!"

He heard her sigh. "Don't be a baby, Farley!"

Biting his lip, Farley was going to ask her once more to get her aunt when he felt something run across his leg. Jumping to his feet, Farley screamed.

Less than a minute later, the doors of the wardrobe were thrown open to reveal his mother and Misses Flint with their wands raised.

Tears in his eyes, Farley threw himself at his mother. "S-Something ran across my leg!" he cried.

Catching him, his mother straightened him out and began to run a hand up and down his back. "It's your own fault for hiding in a wardrobe without searching it properly," she scolded. "Now, stop your blubbering."

"Ah, here we are, it was just a mouse, Farley," Misses Flint told him as she levitated the tiny, brown creature in front of his face.

Sniffling, Farley stared at it. "I didn't know what it was, it was too dark to see," he told the kind woman.

Eyes twinkling, Misses Flint laughed. "Don't fear, lad, I'll let my husband know about our little infestation when he gets home and you won't have to worry about running into any more."

"Okay," Farley mumbled as he hunched his shoulders.

Lightly stroking the back of his neck, his mother suggested, "Now, why don't you and Ulyssa come down to the parlor and play Snitch Snatcher!?"

"Yes, Mother," Farley agreed.

He'd had enough of a scare today and he wasn't interested in the chance of encountering something even worse than a mouse while playing Hide and Seek with Ulyssa.


	11. My Father, The Fiend

It had been a normal morning. The usual kind of spring day he'd experience many times over the course of his young life. It was blustery and cool enough that he and his father were dressed in thick robes, and both of them wore the scarves that his Mother had made for them around their necks. It was a Sunday - the usual day that Farley and his father went to church (Mother never went as she called all religion rubbish and refused to even consider the idea of their being a god).

However, that was where normality ended that day.

Walking the usual path to their church after getting pastries at the bakery down the street from, Farley and his father hadn't paid the people they were passing much mind. Talking about Farley's upcoming swivenhodge game, where he'd be facing off against Ulyssa Flint, was much more important as far as they were concerned. Maybe, though, it hadn't been as important as they thought because suddenly, Farley's father crumpled to the ground.

On top of him was a very fat and very angry woman. At the top of her lungs, she was screaming, "It's your fault! It's  _your_ fault!  _IT'S YOUR FAULT_!"

Stumbling back from his father and the mad woman with wide eyes, Farley couldn't look away. His father, while struggling to get the woman off of him, choked out to him, "Go, Farl-!"

"My Stacey killed herself because of you!" the woman shrieked, her beefy fingers wrapping around Farley's father's throat.

"Father!" Farley cried, terrified that this bear of a woman would kill his father.

Suddenly, he was shoved out of the way be two tall men. "Claire!" one yelled, "Let him go! It's not worth it!"

Her crimson face turned to look at the men. "Stacey  _said_ it's what  _he_  did that made her kill herself! He has to  _pay_!"

The younger of the two, a wispy fellow, clutching a bundle that Farley could now tell was a baby, said, "Don't make Joan lose her granny this week too, Claire, please!"

Father, still red-faced and sputtering, continued to fight as the wispy man worked on reasoning with the irate woman. Jogging the infant, the man begged one more time, "Joan will need you, Claire. No one knew her mother better than you."

The woman's hands went slack and she rolled off Farley's father. On her knees, she wailed into her hands as Father got to his feet as quickly as he possibly could. Once up, he jerked his head at Farley. The boy needed no more indication for what his father wanted. Hurrying over to his side, the two of them disaparated away from the scene.

A few moments later, they were stumbling over the wood-chips of the park Farley often frequented with his parents, Misses Flint and Ulyssa. His father, pale and wide-eyed, led Farley by the hand to one of the benches behind the monkey bars.

Sinking into weathered stone, his father began to shake as he buried his face in his hands.

Still scared and now terribly worried, Farley laid a hand on the man's broad shoulder. "Father?" he whispered.

He didn't look up right away, but when he did, his eyes were rimmed red. "I'm sorry, Farley," he murmured. "Merlin, you must have been scared enough to piss yourself."

Farley was uncomfortable enough as it was, but to hear his father say something so... _frank,_ it really drove things to a new level. "Kind of," he replied. "Father..." he trailed off, gnawing on his lip as he thought of the best way to pose his question. "How's it your fault some lady killed herself?"

Face dark and brooding now, Father turned his head away. "I did a lot of bad things as a young man, Farley," he told him. "I hurt others and fought for the wrong side. I even spent a year in Azkaban for what I'd done. Farley, your mother and I always planned to tell you, but not this soon. We had discussed it not too long ago and thought maybe we'd tell you next year, and if we couldn't find the resolve then, before you left for Hogwarts.

"I don't think you or me are ready to discuss details now, but I'm sorry son. Your father is a fiend and that's what I always will be to everyone who's not lived as I have."

Taking this all in with a rolling stomach, Farley didn't know what to say. Instead, he shot forward and wrapped himself around his father. "You're no fiend to me!" he declared.

His father came to rest a hand on the back of his neck. "Thank you," he whispered into his hair.

But even as he clung tighter to his father, Farley could not hide himself from the bruises that were already blooming on his father's neck. He could not hide himself from the fact that this could happen again. He could not shield himself from the possibility that someday, one of those his father wronged could kill him.

Most of all, though, Farley could not hide from the gut-wrenching certainty, if someone did kill his father, the world would cheer.


	12. What If?

When Farley woke up that morning, he'd thought it be like most mornings. He'd get up, use the loo, wash his face and change clothes before going to eat breakfast. He'd walk into the kitchen where his parents would be bickering about something or other, maybe about the fact that Father snored all night or that Mother forgot to press his tie, but they'd be sniping at each other like they did every day of the year besides his birthday and sometimes Christmas.

However upon walking into the kitchen, he knew this morning was different from usual.

His mother and father were leaned over the newspaper, murmuring to themselves about what was in it.

"Poor Montague," mother tutted. "His sister marrying a mudblood is bad enough, but flaunting it like this in the paper? Does that girl have no shame?"

Father grunted his agreement. "And to think, her father died for the cause..." he sighed.

Taking the paper and balling it up, his mother threw it in the fire. "If you see Montague at work, please give him my condolences."

"I'll give him both of ours," Father proclaimed as he went back to the rest of the paper.

Still standing in the doorway, Farley tried to make sense of what he'd just heard. Someone, a girl, had married a mudblood, or as his parents told him to call them in public, a muggleborn.

It wasn't just any person, though, it was the sister of someone they knew, but also someone Farley did not. That likely meant they'd been Slytherin and just a passing acquaintance. No one truly important, but well enough known to feel sympathy for over their misfortune.

Walking the rest of the way to the table, Farley accepted the bowl of porridge as it was handed off to him. Reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice, he poured himself a glass and wondered musingly what his parents would say if it was a friend of the family who did something so vile.

Or, better yet, what they'd do if he married a mudblood.

Taking a sip of his juice, he looked between his mother and father. Mother was busy with her crossword and father was buried in his paper as he periodically sipped at their tea. Usually, Farley liked these kinds of mornings. They were very peaceful and he'd keep quiet just to the serene atmosphere.

However, today his curiosity was just too much.

"Mother, Father? If I married a mudblood what would you do?" he asked.

They looked up from their activities with identical glares.

"Don't you be getting ideas, young man!" his mother hissed.

Father, face taking on a red hue told him, "I'll take you over my knee if I hear you suggest such a disgusting idea again, Farley Goyle!"

Shrinking back in his seat, Farley looked into his porridge and realized he had his answer. He should never again consider such a blasphemous idea if he knew what was was good for him.

Or at least he shouldn't in his parents' presences.


	13. Nighttime Discovery

"Farley."

Gasping at the sensation of moist breath on the shell of his ear and the vibration of his name in his ear's canal, Farley woke. Searching the darkness around him with darting eyes, he nearly screeched when he realized their was a face just centimeters from his own. However, his waker seemed to have anticipated this and covered his mouth accordingly.

Leaning in close, they hissed, "Don't scream!"

And then all of Farley's fear disappeared. It was just  _Ulyssa_. Pulling her hand off his mouth, Farley sat up in his bed and asked, "What are you doing?"

Pulling at his arm, Ulyssa hissed, "C'mon! I can't sleep and want to  _explore_."

Kicking off his blankets, Farley asked, "Why explore?"

Ulyssa seemed to shrug as she gave his arm yet another tug.

Sighing, Farley let his friend pull him from his bed and out of his room. Once in the dim lights of his home's hall, Farley said to Ulyssa, "This is a bad idea, you know."

The girl laughed. "So?" she countered. "When has that stopped someone - or me - from doing it? Remember that time you told me not to do the double-loop on my broom?"

"You did it and broke both your arms," Farley finished.

Ulyssa nodded triumphantly. "See!"

Farley didn't. Not really, anyway. He knew, though, saying things would only extend this rather befuddling and useless conversation. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

She opened her mouth, but said nothing. Lips puckering, she eventually just shook her head and pointed empathetically down the hall. Farley nodded and together, they started for whatever mischief Ulyssa would find for them.

Not much later, Ulyssa veered off to the left to start tugging on the knob of the locked door that Farley knew lead to the attic. Feeling his palms begin to sweat, he whispered, "Stop! Mother will  _never_ let you spend the night again if we go up there!"

Ulyssa flashed him a not quite nice smile. "That's fine by me," she declared. "We'll just have to have our sleepovers at Aunt Rachel and Uncle Ephram's. My bed  _there_ doesn't smell like old people!"

Face heating up, Farley gave her a shove that he'd never dare to in the light of day. "Belt up!" he growled. "The bed does  _not_ smell like old people! Mother has the House Elf clean it well after every one of Grandmother and Grandfather's visits!"

Snickering as she gave him a shove back, Ulyssa said, "Not well enough! Your mother better get herself a new House Elf!"

"I  _like_ Babs, she cooks the best waffles!" Farley argued.

Rolling her eyes, Ulyssa just flipped her messy curls behind her shoulder and said, "Come on, Farley. Stop being a dumb baby now. I'll be going to Hogwarts next year! This could be one of our last adventures!"

This, unlike anything else Ulyssa had put forth tonight, garnered Farley's immediate cooperation. "Okay," he relented.

Giving him a smile for his agreement, Ulyssa put her hand back on the knob and began to turn it experimentally. "Do you think it can be unlocked with an  _Alohomora_?"

Farley gnawed on the inside of his lip and shrugged. "Maybe," he replied.

"Hm, if you think it's that simple…" Ulyssa mumbled, narrowing her eyes as she put both hands on the dulled copper.

"Ulyssa?" Farley whispered a minute later.

In response, the girl only tensed as she snapped, "Quiet!"

Shrinking back, the boy became so.

A moment later, the door opened with a loud pop.

Jumping back, Ulyssa cast a frantic look down the hallway. Obviously, she expected his parents to come running from their room. Farley, though, knew this wasn't going to happen. They'd starting putting a Silencing Charm on their room at night some years ago, about the same time his mother decided he was too old to be coddled after every nightmare he had.

Farley realized this had probably been a measure of theirs to stop the coddling.

Pushing the door in with his bare toes, Farley told Ulyssa, "They aren't coming. Let's head up," he said.

Casting one last suspicious glance over her shoulder, the girl followed Farley up the winding stairs. Once they reached the attic landing, Ulyssa looked around the over-stuffed room and remarked, "You're family keeps everything, don't they?"

Farley shrugged. "I guess," he answered. Though, he wasn't sure if that was true anymore. It wasn't like he'd ever seen either of his parents come up here. The one or two times he'd asked his mother about the attic she'd always told him it was dusty and boring and there was no reason to go up there. Ever.

As he stared out at the many, shadowed long and tall shapes around him, Farley had to agree with her assessment. This did seem like a dusty and boring place to be in.

"Where should we start?" Ulyssa asked.

Farley shook his head. "Can't we go back downstairs? I'm cold," he whined.

She stamped her foot and with a displeased huff, Ulyssa said, "No! We just got up here!"

Puffing out his cheeks in annoyance, Farley stalked past his friend and said, "Fine!" Going up to a rather beat-up trunk a few feet ahead of Ulyssa, Farley got down on his knees and pushed the lid open. "Let's look in this one!" he said to the girl.

"A trunk!" she shouted, sounding rather disappointed in Farley's choice. "It's probably just clothes or school stuff!" she complained.

Rifling through what was, in fact, mostly school supplies, he reminded her, "You are the one who asked  _me_  where we should start."

Joining him in searching a moment later, Ulyssa grumbled, "I was right, though. This  _is_ just school stuff."

With nothing to say to that, Farley just continued to shuffle aside books and things aside. However, when he pulled out a robe, something white and flat tumbled out of the folds.

"What's that?" Ulyssa murmured as she reached for it.

Leaning in close to get a better look at it as Ulyssa turned it over, Farley exclaimed, "It's a mask!"

Fingers tracing the delicate designs etched into the shiny material, the girl said, "It looks like a  _Death Eater_ mask."

Farley frowned. "Like the ones our grandparents wore?" he asked.

"Like the ones our grandparents  _and_ your father and my mother wore," she corrected.

Taking it from his friend, Farley said, "My father never had a mask. He said so."

"He could have lied," Ulyssa replied.

Tracing the shape of the mask thoughtfully, Farley placed it back in the trunk and started to bury it again.

Trying to stop him, Ulyssa complained, "What are you doing! We could use it when we play Auror and rogue Death Eater!"

Farley pushed her hand away and told his friend, "We will not play with it. If you try and take it I'll tell my mother and father we went up to the attic."

"You wouldn't!"

"I will."

Giving an angry snarl, Ulyssa stood up and declared, "I don't want to explore with you anymore!"

"That's fine. I'm tired anyway," Farley said as he closed the lid of the trunk.

Ulyssa glowered at him. "I'm never spending the night here again," she spat.

"Okay," he replied easily as he headed for the stairs. "See you in the morning."

She made some more upset noises before stomping after him.

A few moments later, they were back downstairs.

Looking at Ulyssa, Farley warned, "I'll be checking on it in the morning."

She stuck out her tongue. "You're so  _lame_."

"You're so bad," he countered. "See you later," he finished as he returned to his room. Once in it, he locked the door.

Standing in the middle of his room then, Farley wondered just how his mother had gotten out of going to Azkaban with a mask like that in her possession.


	14. Impossible Dreams

"-and  _these_  are the quills Uncle Ephram bought for me. They're all self-inking quail feathers, isn't that neat, Farley?" Ulyssa asked excitedly.

Staring into her large, hopeful eyes, the boy nodded. "They really are," he agreed.

Shoulders drooping suddenly, Ulyssa put the case on the coffee table and took a seat beside her friend on the sofa. "Are you just as sad as me that we won't see each other for the coming four months?" she asked.

Farley blinked. Was Ulyssa really just as unhappy as him about their upcoming separation? Surely getting to go to Hogwarts should eclipse that for her? Unsure and uncomfortable, Farley only nodded.

Ulyssa gave him a small smile. "You're my best friend. While I'm sure I can make other mates at Hogwarts, I'd rather have you beside me. Like always," she confided in him.

Farley, meeting her gaze, gave a return smile. "You're my best friend too, Ulyssa. I don't know how I'm going to survive. It's going to be so  _boring_ without you. None of the Mother or Father's mates that we visit often have children close to our age. In fact, only the other friend my parents have that  _has_  a child is Mister Zabini. But Dominique is only two, so she's not much fun. She screams more than anything else."

This drew a laugh from Ulyssa as she curled her dark curls behind her ears. "I'll write," she promises. "Everyday, even. I figure, given how all the adults talk about it, Hogwarts must be a rather exciting place. I'm sure I'll have more than enough to tell you."

"I bet," Farley agreed. "Hey, um, Ulyssa do you know what house you want to be in?" he asked, changing the subject rather awkwardly.

Ulyssa furrowed her brows and tilted her chin in such a way that Farley knew she thought he was being strange. "I  _want_ to be in?" she inquired with great emphasis on 'want'. "Farley, don't be dumb. You don't get to  _pick_. The house puts you where you belong!" she huffed with a little laugh at the end. "Sometimes, Farley, I think you are as dull as a doorknob."

He flushed. "I-I didn't mean it like t-that!" he stammered. "I just thought you might have a pretty good idea where it was going to put you, is all!"

Features relaxing from their annoyed set, Ulyssa smiled. "Oh," she said. "I see. I do know, actually. I'll be Slytherin. Just like Father, Uncle Ephram and Aunt Rachel. Just like you too."

"Just like me? I haven't been sorted," Farley reminded her in confusion.

She giggled. "Oh, come on, Farley. It's not hard to figure out.  _All_ Goyles in the history of  _forever_ have been Slytherins. Same as us Flints! It'd be like a frog suddenly sprouting wings and flying if you went anywhere else!" she exclaimed with a wave of her hand for emphasis.

Farley stared at Ulyssa's smug face for a long moment before dropping his gaze to his knees. Fingers bunching in his pants, he asked in a whisper, "You think so? You don't think either of us could end up anywhere else? I mean, your mother  _was_ a Ravenclaw..." he trailed off.

Face bored, Ulyssa shrugged. "That's because all Brooks before her went there. She's really not  _that_ clever, you know. She wouldn't have gotten married to my father if she was," she explained slowly, as if Farley was much more stupid than he actually was.

"Oh," he murmured in response with little else to say.

Ulyssa gave his hand a pat. "Don't worry, okay? You'll end up there. Just like me. You know, a year's really not  _that_ long. Before you know it, we'll be seeing each other everyday again in Hogwarts halls!" she proclaimed cheerfully. "It'll be great, then, because we'll get to do all sorts of things we can't do here because of my aunt and uncle and your parents."

Farley did his best to smile back with the same level of excitement, but felt he was missing the mark. However, Ulyssa didn't seem to notice, because she began to talk about all the things she had planned for them to do at Hogwarts.

Bobbing his head along and making an interested noise now and again, Farley wondered mournfully if his friend was right. Was it really impossible to be someone besides just another Goyle?

The rational, downtrodden part of him said Ulyssa was right. But the hurt, furious and desperate part of Farley was shouting; yelling, screaming,  _roaring_ that she was wrong. That Ulyssa  _had_ to be because Farley dreamed of so much more than a Slytherin green crest and being the burly lackey of one Scorpius Malfoy.

He wanted more than anything else in the  _entire_ world for people to know him as Farley first and Goyle second.


	15. Mean Girls

Watching as Ulyssa and Opal Montague leaned in close to whisper and giggle amongst themselves for the fourth time in an hour, Farley threw down his Gobstone in frustration.

Unfortunately for him, it hit the ground so perfectly that when it squirted its foul liquid it hit Farley right in the mouth. Their hands going to their mouthes in identical displays of surprise, Montague and Ulyssa only have to share a single glance before they fall over each other cackling.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Farley couldn't help but gag when a bit of the liquid still managed to get through his pursed lips. Farley had only had the chance once before to taste it, but he knew without doubt the liquid tasted the same as spoiled milk. "Ugh!" he exclaimed, spitting on the ground.

Montague gave a squeal, his saliva barely missing the toe of her boot.

"Watch where you spit!" she cried.

Farley bared his teeth at her. "Watch how you talk to me!" he snapped.

"Farley!" Ulyssa chided, giving him a glare as she place a hand on Montague's arm. "I'm so sorry about him. I told my aunt not to invite him and his mother today, but she just didn't listen!"

Feeling anger mingle with his earlier embarrassment and frustration, Farley threw his other Gobstone at the girls as he yelled, "Merlin, Ulyssa! You are such a bitch!"

The duo shrieked as the disgusting liquid sprayed the hems of their skirts. Her own face flushed now, Ulyssa shouted back, "And you're a real arsehole! Just go back inside, Farley! No one wants you here!"

"Fine! I will!" he snapped. Turning heel, he stomped through the open patio door and into the parlor where his mother and Missus Flint were having tea.

Seeing him approach, Ulyssa's aunt flashed him a smile as she lifted the plate of biscuits for him to see. His favorite gingersnaps were stacked high in the middle. Reaching out with a greedy hand, he grabbed several and immediately stuffed one in his mouth.

"Farley!" his mother scolded. "Where are your manners?"

Swallowing, he flushed as he said to Missus Flint, "Thank you for the biscuits."

"You're welcome!" she replied happily.

Farley couldn't help but give her a half-smile in return. Ulyssa's aunt had that affect on people, Farley knew. Her cheerful disposition was infectious (it was a real wonder, Farley thought, sometimes, that his mother and her were cousins).

Taking a seat beside his mother, he took slight comfort in how she reached over to sweep his bangs out of his eyes. "Farley, why aren't you outside playing with the girls still?" she asked, sounding almost maternal.

"They were being dunderheads," he grumbled, "chitchatting when they should have been tossing their stones and such."

Missus Flint laughed as his mother gave a disapproving cluck of her tongue.

"That's no way to talk about your friends..." his mother murmured as Missus Flint said:

"Don't worry, Farley. In another year or two they'll be fighting for your attention!"

Mother's eyes lit up. "They will, won't they?" she agreed with appraisal. "Then you'll be wishing they were ignoring you like they are now."

Farley wasn't really sure what the women were trying to get at, but whatever it was, it certainly wasn't a comfort to him. Farley was hurt. Ulyssa was supposed to be his best mate, but instead of telling him all about her time at Hogwarts and discussing with him what they were to do together next year, and what he should expect, she was gabbing with stupid Montague about somebody named Camden Warrington and how  _great_ he looked on a broom for the Slytherin Quidditch team. The same Quidditch team the two planned to try out for next year.

Farley knew without doubt Ulyssa would make it, she was pretty wicked on a broom, but Farley didn't know anything about Montague. At this point, Farley was hoping she fell off her broom within the first ten minutes of tryouts. Maybe she'd break something important - like her neck - and then Ulyssa would be just  _his_ mate again.

Looking to the two women, Farley wanted to tell them this, but knew better. His mother would have an absolute conniption if he voiced his hope that Montague would break her neck. Missus Flint would give him that sad look too, he bet. The one she often wore when Ulyssa talked about the cousins she occasionally saw on her mother's side of the family.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Is it fine if I just stay here for now?"

Reaching for the teapot as Missus Flint conjured up a teacup, his mother said, "Of course, Farley. How would you like to hear a story from our school days about your father or Mister Flint, hm?"

Perking up a little, Farley asked, "Could it be a Quidditch one? Those are always exciting."

Sharing a roll of her eyes with Missus Flint, his mother replied, "Of course, Farley."

Taking a sip of his tea, Farley hunkered in for what was surely to be a action-packed tale.


	16. A Lesson in Hexes and What the Future Holds

Moments after walking out of the fireplace alongside his mother, Farley was surprised to find his father lounging on the sitting room's sofa.

"Father?" he greeted uncertainly. Glancing to the ornate grandfather clock that rested against the opposing wall, Farley felt further confusion when he saw it was only three in the afternoon. Most days, his Father worked until six in the evening, sometimes seven or even  _eight._

Farley looked to his mother then. Her face wasn't troubled at all, instead, she was rummaging through their bag of shrunken packages, muttering to herself. Finally, she pulled out Farley's wand box and brought it back to its original size.

"It's an eleven and a quarter inch aspen with dragon heartstring and he described the wand as being quite flexible," his mother told his father, face not quite happy, but not angry either.

Father gave a nod. "Good for duels," he remarked.

Handing Farley the wand, his mother muttered, "But also for  _revolutionaries_. You should have seen the look that prat gave me when it worked for Farley!"

Father gave a snort. "They've been giving us looks for years, Millicent. Why's it matter more today than it does any other day?"

Looking away, face flushed, his mother crossed her arms.

Anxious now, Farley decided he better ask why his father was home early before his mother came up with a retort that would lead to a row. "Father, why are you home early?" he asked.

The man's gaze snapped to Farley, his dark eyes glowed with pride. "You've got your wand," he said. "And to celebrate, I'll show you a couple spells. You won't be able to actually cast them, of course, but seeing them done and learning the incantations will do you good."

Farley felt a grin spread across his face. "Wow! Really?" he gasped.

Father smiled back. "Yes, really."

Vibrating in place, Farley looked to his mother for permission. Maybe she'd want him to put away all his new school things first or for him to sit down and have a snack or something. She could get fussy like that and it was best he not forget that lest she blame father for Farley being poorly behaved

Rolling her eyes, she made a shooing motion. "Go, Farley. I'll put your things in your room," she told him.

"Thank you, Mother!" he exclaimed before hurrying to his father who was standing now, waiting for him.

Following his father out to their yard, with his wand clutched in his hand, Farley felt his heart thrum with excitement. "What spells are you going to teach me, Father?" he asked the man.

"We'll start with the stinging hex," his father replied. Positioning Farley a pace away, he brought out his wand quick as lighting and said, "It's rather simple, you just-"

Farley yelped, falling back. Putting his now throbbing fingers in his mouth, he glared at his father. "Why'd y'do 'at?" he demanded around his quickly swelling fingers.

His father just gave him a grim smile. "Best way to understand it is to experience it yourself," he told Farley. "My father preformed it on me and his before him on him too. I suspect it goes back to the very first Goyles, actually."

Hearing this, Farley decided that if he ever had a son (or daughter) that he wouldn't do this to them. This was one (of many) Goyle traditions that seemed far too cruel to continue. While he knew they were rather slow and learned best through physical means, actually having to experience the pain of the curse was just too much.

"Hmph," was all he said in reply as the stinging began to lessen.

Father gestured for him to come close. "Now, come here. I want you to watch how I point my wand…"

Wearily, he did so. As the lesson went on, Farley really became interested and started asking question after question about duels and what kind of spells were best for defense. Father would always answer, but he'd quickly move the spells he spoke of back to offensive ones; which frustrated Farley to no end.

Finally, he huffed, " _Father_ , I want to know how to defend myself! I'm not going to be looking for fights!"

"Oh?" his father replied. "You think so, do you? I should probably remind you that Scorpius Malfoy will be in your year. If he's anything like his father, he'll be picking fights left and right."

"Who says I'll be mates with him?" Farley returned, confused.

Father ruffled his hair. "It's just the way of things, Farley. Goyles have a long history with Malfoys and seeing as you'll be in the same year, you'll just…fall together, I suppose is the best way of putting it. When that happens, you'll need how to fight - especially so since there's no - no Crabbe boy to watch your back…"

Farley looked to his toes. His father didn't talk much about the Crabbes, but he knew, even after all these years, he missed Vincent Crabbe. The two of them had gotten along quite well; idiocy calling to idiocy, as his mother had explained to him a few times. His unfortunate demise during the battle had hit Father quite hard.

"I see," Farley replied. But in reality, he didn't. Why, just because they were going to be roommates, did Farley have to fall together with him and become mates? His father and Mister Malfoy weren't  _friends_ , as far as Farley could tell. It's not like Scorpius's father came to see his very often, or vise versa. And if they were friends, they didn't behave a bit like mother and Missus Flint did. There was no idle chatter, smiles, or sharing of drink and food. No, if Mister Malfoy came to visit, it was for an important reason and their meetings never left the parlor. They kept things terse and every time they met, it brought out what Farley liked to call the  _shadows_.

Their brows would grow heavy and cause their eyes to be overlaid with darkness. Often times, during their conversations, they'd glance to the perpetually empty spot beside them - like they expected someone to be filling it. His father (and he suspected Scorpius's did too) would become particularly snappy after one of their meetings.

No, as far as he could tell, they weren't friends. Once upon a time they might have been, he knew, but these days all they had was a tired loyalty that drew them together when serious things had to be discussed. Otherwise, they had nothing to do with one another and this, Farley believed, was why he'd only seen Scorpius a handful of times over the course of his eleven years rather than frequently like he did with Ulyssa.

Tallying this in his mind with all the other reasons why he didn't want to be Slytherin, Farley reminded himself he better at least become comfortable with the idea of becoming Scorpius Malfoy's bodyguard. Chances were, despite his best efforts, he'd end up in Slytherin just like everyone else he knew. When that happened, he'd be expected to use this training or he'd be risking his father's ire and love, which was the last thing Farley wanted to do.

Abruptly, he was drawn from his thoughts when his father cleared his throat.

"Good lad," he whispered. "Now, how about we go in for some supper, hm?"

Farley nodded. "Yes, Father," he replied.

Allowing the man to guide him back inside, Farley did his best to push away his worries. It wasn't everyday he got to have dinner with his father, after all. He wanted to enjoy it even if his first lesson in spells was now a sour memory.


	17. Farley the Badger

"Goyle, Farley!"

Elbowing his way through the throng of waiting first years, Farley did his best to hold his chin high as he approached the Deputy Headmaster and the Sorting Hat. Even though Farley was willing to bet he had more reason to be nervous than most, he was not going to show it.

It just wouldn't do for a well-raised pureblood boy like himself to appear so.

His eyes kind, the Depute Headmaster - Bertram Aubrey - gave a nearly imperceptible gesture for him to take a seat on the waiting stool. Casting a look out of the corner of his eye to the Slytherin table, Farley felt his resolve only strengthen. The students there all had their bodies leaned forward in anticipation, ready to swallow him into their shadowy folds. He didn't want that. He didn't want to be called evil and be told he was just as bad as his father.

Never again.

Clenching his hands into fists, Farley turned around and sat down on the stool with all his weight. He didn't know how long it would take to make the Sorting Hat place him where he wanted, after all.

"Good luck," Bertram whispered as he let the hat's weathered fabric slip over his head.

" _Ah, a Goyle,_ " the Sorting Hat murmured.

It was a plain statement, Farley realized with some awe and a great deal of excitement. There was no distaste, no joy in the hat's inflection, just a matter-of-factness.

Surely it meant he'd be impartial and listen to Farely's hopes and place him accordingly? Taking a breath, he whispered his plea to the hat, "Can I be put in anywhere but Slytherin, please?"

" _Oh, aren't you a polite boy? I suppose it was your mother who taught you that - she had said please too, if I recall correctly. Though, she asked if she could be put_ in _slytherin_ ,  _please, but it remains you are quite like her,"_ the Sorty Hat gabbed instead of agreeing with Farley.

Holding back both disappointment and irritation, he explained, "I don't want to be called evil. You can put me in any house you like besides Slytherin, I'll even go to Gryffindor without complaint if you think that's best."

The hat gave a low chuckle. " _You're rather insistent_ _, aren't you young man? Though, I don't feel you've thought things through. It's not the house that will hinder you here, young man, it's your_ name.  _The Goyle name has already been soiled and a different house won't stop suspicious stares or gain the dissociation from your father that you are looking for. In Slytherin, they will rally around you, protect you, accept you and all of your history without fuss._

 _"After all, so many of them are in the same predicament as you, young man. They are children of the shamed as well..._ " he trailed off.

Farley fisted his hands in the extra fabric of his pants and fught the urge to shake his head and shout, "No! No! You have to  _listen_ to me!"

The hat gave one last attempt at swaying him into Slytherin, " _The ambition you have to set yourself apart from your father would do you well in Slytherin, but I can see that it is not enough to convince you to go there. But maybe if I remind you of the friend who's expecting that - as always - she'll have you by her side?_ "

Farley didn't need a name to know who the hat was talking about. He already knew that the friend it spoke of was Ulyssa Flint, the girl he'd spent almost all his childhood visiting, playing and talking with when he went to visit her aunt with his mother. Ulyssa had been sorted to Slytherin just like her parents, only a couple of students earlier, and she'd even promised to save him a seat before she'd gone up to be sorted.

Oh, how he hated the thought of upsetting her...

" _Well, young man? Have you changed your mind_?" the hat inquired.

Farley frowned. "No," he hissed, "I still want to be place anywhere but Slytherin."

The Sorting Hat sighed. " _If you truly wish to be elsewhere, I think you belong in -_ HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat bellowed.

Ears ringing as the Sorting Hat is pulled off his head, Farley stood up and walked over to his new house. They weren't all clapping and some of them looked rather disgusted to have him join their ranks, but the girl he'd helped up from the ground at King's Cross, after she was knocked down by an older student, was already waving him over.

Hurrying to the offered seat, Farley ducked his head as he sat down.

"So, you're a Hufflepuff like me," she remarked.

Farley gave her a hard stare. "What's wrong with that?" he grumbled.

"Nothing at all," she replied with a bit of a quirk to her lips. "I'm just surprised. An older student though you were going to be in Slytherin for sure."

"They weren't the only one," Farley muttered as he cast a look over to the Slytherin table only to find his childhood friend frowning back at him. While he regretted the rift this was surely going to cause between the two of them, Farley only had to glance at the girl beside him to realize it might not hurt as much as he feared it would.


	18. Up a Creek Without a Paddle

Taking a seat on the bed nearest the door of his new dorm, Farley just took in the warm yellows and browns with no small amount of awe. He'd never had the pleasure of being in such a cozy looking room before. Not even Missus Flint's home had ever made him feel this comfortable. Smiling to himself, he decided that maybe he could really like it here.

Or, Farley believed he could until he realized that the rest of his dormmates were staring at him.

Smile running away from his face, he bunched his fingers in the quilt spread across his bed and asked, "Yes?"

"You're a  _Goyle_ ," a mean-faced blond said.

Farley wanted to roll his eyes, but the manners his mother had taught him were far too ingrained in Farley for him to throw them off now. "Yes, that's right," he replied, not really seeing where this was going.

"Why'd the hat put you here then?" another boy inquired.

He gave a shrug.

This did not appease his dormmates in the slightest.

The blond boy from earlier took a step toward him. "You don't deserve to wear our colors," he declared. "You and your family are nothing but backwards scum!"

Frowning at the boy, Farley realized he knew this one's name. "You're Peregrine Smith, aren't you? If I recall, your father wasn't much better than mine, was he? He fled the battle when all his friends stayed to fight. At least mine knew loyalty to his side," he countered hotly.

Farley felt proud of himself, he was holding his own quite well, he thought.

"Loyal to the  _Death Eaters_!" one boy roared as he elbowed past Smith to glare at Farley with his face red. "It was them and  _your_ family that wiped out more than half of my own! My grandparents have pictures of cousins hanging on their walls that never got to grow up! So, don't you  _dare_ look so smug! Loyalty doesn't mean anything when it's to a madman who wants to kill half our kind!"

Startled by the impassioned diatribe, Farley hunched in on himself. "That's not what I was getting at," he mumbled. "Just that-"

"What, that you're better than Smith here? Because you  _aren't_ ," yet another boy chimed in, face dark.

Farley turned his head. He wasn't going to try and fight with them anymore. He might not be the smartest out there, but he saw the way one who'd unleashed the nasty little speech was balling his hands. He was looking for a fight and while Farley was certain he could take him, he was not so dumb as to believe that he could take him and the other six boys he'd be rooming with.

As the silence carried on, Smith gave a laugh. "Don't have anything to say now, do you Death Eater spawn?"

Catching the snarl in his throat, Farley swung his legs on his bed and turned his back to them. He was a wall. Whatever they said to him would just bounce off. It  _would_. It  _had_ to.

"Yeah, thought you'd have nothing to say for yourself," Smith finally chuckled. "C'mon, lads, let's just finish unpacking."

Slowly, Farley heard feet shuffle and then trunks opening and closing as the others began to talk amongst themselves. Biting his tongue hard enough to taste blood, Farley held back the urge to cry. He wasn't a baby and this wouldn't the first time he'd been snubbed. Hell, Ulyssa had done it to him nearly half the summer whenever she had one of her new mates with her, when he went to visit Missus Flint with his mother.

But, if Farley was so used to it, why did it smart so much?


	19. What Hurts More? The Truth or a Kick in the Nads?

Walking several steps ahead of the rest of Hufflepuff's first years, Farley did his best to ignore their rather loud discussion about him and what it could mean now that  _Neo-Death Eaters_ are being sorted into Hufflepuff. Farley wanted to look back, let them know he could hear, but he was too afraid.

Afraid they might ask again how he ended up in Hufflepuff.

He didn't want to tell. Farley didn't want them to know how close he was to being a Slytherin just like ever other Goyle before him. If he told them that, he was sure there would never be a day where he was accepted into the Hufflepuff fold.

Sighing, Farley dropped his gaze to his feet. What point was there in looking up, looking strong when nobody back there was actually paying him, the one right in front of them, any attention?

However, a moment later, Farley realized how poor a decision that was to make.

"Hey," a forceful voice greeted as Farley nearly tripped into him.

Looking up, he could only gape at the tall, skinny Gryffindor in front of him.

Frowning as he pushed his shoulders back and came to his full height, Farley asked, "Yes?"

Bister lips pulling back in a mean smirk, he asked, "You're Goyle, right?"

"I'm  _Farley_ Goyle, yes," he answered, making sure to put emphasis on his first name. He was a Goyle, but he'd rather people get used to knowing him as something more than just that.

Smirk widening into a elated grin, the boy said, "I'm Pete Coote.  _Your_ dad  _crucio'd_ mine."

Farley felt his stomach drop as he stumbled back a step - only to bump into another body. Looking up, he saw yet another upper year Gryffindor smiling down at him cruelly.

He knew what was coming. Farley knew this was going to lead to a lot of pain - even more so than what had already been inflicted by having his father's less than savory past thrown in his face ( _again_ ).

He wondered if Ulyssa had this problem last year. If Scorpius Malfoy was having it  _now_. Somehow, Farley kind of doubted it. He was sure, since the war, Slytherin had probably worked out some kind of protective measures for their ilk to keep them safe from incidents likes this.

Maybe even Ravenclaw had some method for their own too, since he was sure that a lot more Pure Rights supporters's children went there these days rather than Slytherin, anyway.

Surely Hufflepuff should too, then? Farley couldn't possibly be the only one of his kind to have ever been sorted to Hufflepuff! It'd been almost  _twenty_ years since the war!

"Excuse me, but I have to get to class," he said to Coote in a voice that he was praying didn't portray his fears.

Wand out, the older boy tapped it on his chin in a mockingly thoughtful manner. "It's a shame I can't return the favor, isn't it,  _Goyle_?" he asked. "I'm sure you deserve it just as much as your dear daddy. In fact, I don't think there's any kind of spell I can think of off the top of my head that would cause you nearly the same amount of pain. Or, none that wouldn't have me arrested, anyway!" he finished with a laugh.

His cohorts joined in, chuckling and snickering in an equally devious manner.

Sweat on the back of his neck, Farley didn't even attempt to try one of the spells his dad had been teaching him since he got his wand last month, instead, he attempted to run.

He was tripped.

"Where are you going, Death Eater spawn?" one of the boys gathered with Coote questioned as Farley fell to the ground.

From behind them, Farley heard one of his fellow Hufflepuffs scream, "You lot stop this! I'll get a Professor!"

Pushing himself up, Farley covered his throbbing nose and watched as Coote pointed to someone that he couldn't see through the throngs of legs. "Gem, Baxter, go keep those firsties in place and shut up the girl. I'm going to make things even for my old man if it's the last thing I do," he proclaimed.

Farley began to shake. This was  _not_ going to end well for him at all, he realized with a cold dread.

Smiling back down at Farley as his minions went off to do his bidding, Coote cooed, "Now, where were we, Goyle?"

He would have thrown up if he weren't so terrified.

Laughing at him, Coote swung his foot right into Farley's crotch. Doubling over from the pain, Farley groaned and curled himself into a tight ball as more of his housemates began to shout.

He didn't know if it was because they were cheering or if it was because they were condemning Coote, but it was still a relief. It was bound to draw  _someone's_ attention. Hogwarts halls had a tendency to echo, from what his parents and Ulyssa had told him.

And to prove this, he heard Coote swear, "Oh, bugger!"

"You lads! What are you  _doing_?" a woman shrilled.

Still wincing as he sat up, Farley desperately looked for the source of the voice and was relieved when he saw it was one of the older professors who'd been through the war - and a Slytherin to boot.

Face completely livid, she shoved past all the Gryffindors before asking Farley with a concerned expression, "Are you alright there, lad?"

He gave her a tiny smile. "Nothing too bad, Professor Sinistra," he answered.

"All of you lads will be going straight to the Headmistress's office," she barked at them. "Ganging up on a first year! I'm ashamed of you all!"

As his cohorts looked away and down at the ground, Coote met Sinistra's gaze. "Of course you'd be one to come to a Neo-Death Eater's aid," he growled.

Professor Sinistra's nostrils flared. "Mister Goyle is a  _first year_ , Mister Coote. You are a third year with a pack of other boys picking on someone weaker and smaller than yourself, it has nothing to do with what, or whom, he may or may not affiliate himself with."

Coote sent Farley a smirk. "Smaller and weaker? Ma'am, I think you better re-consider that. Not only is he the same height as Gem over there, but he's definitely bigger than  _half_ of us. Weaker my arse!"

"Fifty points from Gryffindor! For each of you!" Professor Sinistra roared. "I want no more back talk or you'll be risking  _one_   _hundred_ points each! Now, march to the Headmistress's office before I have to make you!"

"I bet you let his father and others use unforgivables on others!"

"Pete! What in the bloody hell are you doing?" one of his mates cried.

Professor Sinistra narrowed her eyes. "I'll give you the chance to take that back, young man, and save yourself and your house from losing four hundred points," she offered.

Coote crossed his arms.

" _Four hundred_ points from Gryffindor," Professor Sinistra declared.

It wasn't missed by Farley how haggard this made her look. She hadn't wanted to take those points.

Coote, though, did not stop even in the face of this threat. "I bet you  _liked_ doing that, you Pureblood sympathizer!"

"Mister Coote, I will cast a silencing charm on you," she warned.

He smiled. "Do it. Silence the truth!" he shouted.

The tired woman sighed. Bringing out her wand, she did so. "Let us go," she said, attempting to take Coote by the arm.

He shook her off and began to trot ahead of her - likely in the direction of the Headmistress's office.

When Farley was alone with just his fellow Hufflepuffs again, he scowled at the sight of their many ghostly pale, shocked faces. Balling up his hands, he barked, "What? It's done! There's nothing left to laugh at!"

One of his fellow Hufflepuffs - the blonde he'd talked to at the feast - whispered, "None of us ever laughed."

"I don't believe you," Farley proclaimed. And he didn't. He was sure someone had, just as sure as he was about them smiling when he ran into Coote. It was always great to see someone get what they deserved - even if it wasn't in a direct manner.

The angry boy from last night stepped forward. "She's right!" he asserted, "violence isn't something you laugh at!"

This made Farley Laugh. Yeah, violence wasn't something to laugh at,  _sure_. Tell that to Bellatrix Lestrange, or any number of other sadists. "Please!" he giggled, "Merlin, you don't have to hide it! I don't  _care_! I would have if I were you!"

The shock melted away from their faces only to be replaced by looks of outrage and disgust.

Farley wasn't surprised.

"You're sick, you know that, Goyle?" angry boy spat. "Only psychos would laugh at someone getting roughed up!"

He just stared back at him, smirking and unperturbed. Him and all the rest could lie all they liked to make themselves feel better, Farley didn't have to play along.

"Come on," someone toward the back of the group said, "Class starts in five."

A murmuring started up after that and a moment later, they began shambling forward - giving Farley wide berth as they go. He didn't care, not even a bit. Once they'd all move past him, he readjusted his satchel and followed after.

He kept within a foot of the group this time, however. It was best he didn't stick out too much lest it draw the wrong kind of attention yet again.


	20. One Terrible Day

Sniffling, Farley did his best not to let his tears fall as he headed for the infirmary. He still didn't understand why Ulyssa kept chasing him away with hexes whenever he tried to approach her. This time she hadn't even been with other Slytherins! For the last couple days, he'd been waiting for the moment she wouldn't be with other Slytherins, even, since he though maybe she was just embarrassed to talk to a Hufflepuff in their company. When he saw her today, he'd thought fate had been on his side and that he was finally going to get to chat with her.

But he'd hardly finished saying her name before she'd hexed him with boils.

Dabbing carefully at his eyes as to avoid irritating one of his boils, he sighed. This would be the fourth time this week he went to the Infirmary. Madam Smith was going to be quite upset, he was sure.

Especially since he was going to refuse to say who had hexed him (again).

"Wow, this is like the second time this week you've gotten hexed! Who's wrong side are you on _now_?" a falsetto voice inquired.

Lifting his gaze from the ground, Farley cast a furtive look around only to find one of his fellow first years on the other side of the corridor staring at him.

Scowling, he snapped, "Why don't you mind your own business!"

The other first year, a round faced blonde, who Farley believed was named Alex (or something like it), furrowed her brows. "If that's your attitude when asked a question, I'm not surprised you keep getting hexed by others," she proclaimed snootily.

"I-" he choked. What could he say? How did you even brush off such a calloused remark without giving your whole life story? How could he even  _hint_ to what he'd been through these last two weeks without looking like he was begging for pity? Farley didn't know. So, instead, Farley took a defensive stance and decided it would be best to chase her off.

"Belt up, you pig-faced busy-body!" he roared.

Eyes fluttering wide with shock, the girl only took a moment longer to bare her teeth and brandish her wand. "I'd hurry along, if I were you, Goyle. I doubt you want to add beaver-teeth to your maladies."

Scoffing, he sneered despite the pain it caused his face. "I'd like to see you try!" he challenged.

She began to mutter the hex and Farley, not wanting to be hit with it, ducked down and pulled out his own wand. Not wasting a moment, he shouted the incantation for the stinging jinx and watched with some satisfaction as the girl stumbled back, cradling her hurt hand.

"I'm telling a professor!" the girl shouted, face red with fury.

Farley laughed. "You started it! And look at my  _face_ , they'll think you did this."

"But I didn't!" the girl argued.

"Yeah, so?" he sneered.

Clenching her hands into fists and squaring her shoulders, the girl turned away and said, "Just go! I don't want to stare at your ugly face anymore!"

Relaxing some, Farley nodded. "I will - and gladly!" he declared as he turned and continued on his way to the infirmary.

Farley was sure the girl would tell all her mates and then some about what he'd done (as girls were terrible gossips), but he couldn't really find it in him to care at the moment. He was finally beginning to see that Ulyssa was no longer his best friend and that the chances of them ever having an amicable conversation with her again n Hogwarts halls were slim.

Making an enemy out of a fellow Hufflepuff just seemed like the perfect way to round off a terrible day.


	21. The First Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos and comments so far, guys :)

Walking off the Hogwarts Express, Farley Goyle nervously looked out at the throngs of people. Surely his parents were somewhere out there waiting for him? Trunk scraping the ground behind him, the boy began to search for them. After five minutes and no luck, he began to feel his stomach crumple inwards with fear.

He'd  _told_ them he was going to come home for holidays in a letter almost a month ago! His mother hadn't said anything about it in her return letter a week later, but he'd just assumed there wasn't anything else to say about it. He was coming home for Christmas and that meant they'd have to pick him up from the train station like their parents had done for them growing up.

As children began to meet up with their families and leave, Farley began to fear the worst.

' _Mother and Father aren't coming!_ ' his mind screamed at him as his worry turned into full-blown panic.

Now that almost all families were gone, Farley gave up on any pretense of looking for his mother and father. Instead, he plonked himself down on his trunk and buried his face in his hands. Sitting there, he began to consider what their absence meant.

' _Are they punishing me for being sorted into Hufflepuff?_ ' he wondered.

Suddenly, Farley was torn from his thoughts when he felt a hesitant finger tap on his shoulder. Lifting his head up, he was made to meet a pair of uncertain brown eyes hooded by scrunched, unkempt sandy-blonde brows.

Straightening back out, the man asked, "Do you need help lad?"

"I-"

A familiar, round-faced girl popped out from behind the man. "I told my dad who you are, Goyle. He says he knows where your mother's family's shop is. We can take you there, if you want," she offered curtly.

Looking between the concerned father and his rather unenthusiastic yearmate, Farley began to say no. He didn't want to admit that he needed help nor did he want to make Abbott upset with him for keeping her from going home to her family. However, he realized he was being daft very quickly.

Glancing around, he found that besides him and the Abbotts, there was one - maybe two - other families still milling around. If he didn't accept their help, he might not get any at all. If Farley didn't take them up on their offer, he'd have to go find an Auror and tell them what happened, and wouldn't  _that_ be embarrassing?

Farley sure thought so. Also, even though he couldn't be sure, he believed this might count as some sort of minor felony; like child abandonment or something. His parents wouldn't only be cross with him for being a Hufflepuff after that.

So, swallowing his fears and pride, he started, "Ye-"

"Farley!"

Relief relaxing him instantly, Farley scrambled up and turned around. "There you are Mother!" he exclaimed.

Eying the Abbotts with a critical eye, she commanded to Farley, "Come here."

Grabbing the handle of his trunk, he gave the two a slight nod of his head in thanks as he hurried over. "You're late, Mo-"

"-Let us go, your father is waiting for us back home!" she cut in brusquely.

Grabbing onto his shoulder, she guided him roughly out of King's Cross. Once on the street, she grumbled, "What did you think you were doing in there? Were you trying to air our family's dirty laundry in front of those pricks?"

Confused, Farley looked up at his mother and studied her strong features for a moment. "What do you mean?" he finally asked when he could not figure out what she meant.

Sighing loudly, she rolled her eyes and muttered, "You're just as slow as your father! What I mean is that you let them know I was  _late,_ Farley!"

"Anyone could see that, though," Farley replied only further perplexed by what his mother was saying.

Turning her head, his mother glared steadily at him for a good minute. "If you'd held yourself like a boy of proper breeding should, no one would have suspected a thing!"

Ears burning, Farley ducked his head and muttered, "I didn't know what was happening...I thought you were maybe punishing me for being in Hufflepuff..."

The grip Farley's mother had on him gentled a fraction. "We wouldn't punish you for something like that," she said softly. "However, your father  _is_ very disappointed in you. I was late because he refused to come meet you at the station with me. We expected you to do the Goyle name proud and be Slytherin like all the rest, Farley. When you didn't, well, your father had to be talked down from stripping your inheritance from you. Twice."

"Oh," Farley whispered. He didn't know what else to say. His dad was so angry he wanted to take Farley's  _inheritance_ from him. What would that mean for his Christmas holidays? Would his dad refuse to talk to him? Would he leave the room if Farley came into it? Would he deny him both his Christmas and Birthday gifts?

Abruptly, Farley was pulled from his brooding when he felt his mother's hand card through his fringe. "We'll have to cut your hair when we get back home," she muttered quietly.

Farley offered her a small smile.

This was her way of comforting him, he knew. She wasn't touchy and she actually seemed to fear being soft; so the fact she gave a reason for ruffling his hair was more than enough to let him know there was more to her touch than just him needing a haircut.

It was at that moment that Farley knew, even if his father never came around, his mother would never abandon him for his sorting.


	22. Love and Silence

Just hours after coming home from the station, Farley was told by his mother that he would be accompanying her to visit a cousin of hers that lives in Germany. Immediately, he began to complain. How could he not, though? His mother hadn't said a thing about this in her letter last week and knowing her, she had to have planned this very far in advance.

It wasn't his mother's style to make snap decisions.

"You have to," she snarled, "I already told Chutney that you'd becoming with and I'm not changing my plan now!"

Slumping in his chair, Farley crossed his arms and pouted. "Why didn't you  _tell_  me?" he asked. "I would have just stayed at Hogwarts!"

His mother slammed down the lid of her suitcase. "Stop your sulking this instance!" she demanded.

Farley turned his head. "Where's Father? He's coming, right? He always does when we go stay with the Flints at their holiday home in Portugal."

The woman stopped in her bustling and came to a near stand-still. Farley didn't like it one bit. Sitting up a little straighter and uncrossing his arms, he leaned forward in his mother's dressing chair. His fingers were digging into the hard underside of the chair as a feeling of trepidation began to settle in his bones.

"Mother?" he inquired in a whisper.

Shaking off her imitation of a statue, his mother, once again, started putting essentials in her travel purse. "Your father is too busy with work to come this year," she told Farley.

He didn't believe her.

"Is he  _really_ this upset about me being in Hufflepuff?" he questioned.

His mother gave a full body sigh. She looked so much smaller, thinner and tired than she had when he'd left for Hogwarts all those months ago. Turning around, she came over and gently grabbed his chin.

"He'll come around, Farley," she promised.

He pursed his lips and did not look away as he asked, "Do you really believe that?"

Letting him go, his mother stood back up. "He's just sore," she murmured. "His own father sent him a howler about not raising you properly and he just doesn't  _understand_ and-"

"Grandfather sent him a howler?" Farley cut in, made anxious by the fact he'd brought such a misfortune upon his father.

Mother glared at him. "He probably would have sent you one too, I think, if it was still socially acceptable for family to send wayward children them for such grave misdeeds as betraying the family's tradition," she told Farley.

Face heating up, Farley mumbled, "I  _am_ sorry, okay? I know Hufflepuff was the last place everyone was expecting me to go…"

"And that is precisely why  _I_ am proud of you, Farley," his mother said.

He looked at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping. "You -  _really_?"

The woman gave a fairly good-natured roll of her eyes. "I've always thought you were as dumb as your father," she admitted, "but you proved me wrong, my boy."

Farley couldn't stop the grin that split across his face as he jumped from the chair to go and hug her around the middle. "You get it? You really do?" he asked, excited that he could finally  _talk_ with someone about what he'd done.

Patting his head, his mother gently extracted him from her as she met his smile with a small one of her own.

"I do," she replied. "You're disconnecting our family from its past, drastically, I might add. You're not betraying the Goyle line, but helping to preserve it in your own cunning way. I imagine - and surely you've figured this out by now too - that in a couple generations, people will have forgotten all about the fact the Goyles were on the wrong side of the war.

"Farley, I see that you're saving our family, and I appreciate it. I appreciate that you are taking such a selfless hit for the sake of keeping our family name alive and I know, someday our descendants will see things just as we do and thank you for all that you are doing."

Farley's grin that had been so true before was now as false as his Grandmother's teeth. His mother  _didn't_ understand. She thought his motives were altruistic when they were actually selfish. Farley had never thought that far ahead. He didn't want to. The farthest he'd ever thought was a year, maybe two, out.

That'd always felt like more than enough to him, but it seemed that just wasn't so.

But Farley knew if he admitted to this, the pride glowing in his mother's gaze would disappear. No longer would he be sly or self-sacrificing, instead he'd be dumb and, once more, an utter disappointment.

Farley's father already hated him now because he thought he'd betrayed their family, he couldn't lose his mother too. Especially since he'd  _just_ won her admiration.

So, swallowing down his anger, his bitter tears and need to scream, " _You_ don't  _know me!_ " Farley nodded his false gratitude.

"I'm glad you get it, Mother," he whispered.

Dipping her head low, she placed a tender kiss upon his brow. "You are making me so proud, Farley. There's more Bulstrode in you than I'd ever thought possible."

Turning then, she picked up a necklace from her dresser and said, "Now, go finish packing your things for our visit. We'll likely stay there for most of your Christmas Holidays."

Nodding, Farley waited until he was in the hall to touch his tingling forehead. His mother's kisses were rare, especially ones as tender as the one he'd just received. Rolling it over in his mind along with all his sour disillusionment, he came to the conclusion that misplaced adoration was better than having two parents who saw him as lacking.

Maybe, with time, his opinion would change, but seeing as he had no one else who cared for him at this point and time, it was best to keep silent.


	23. Hogwarts Again, Hogwarts Again

Slurping sluggishly at the porridge he'd decided on for his first breakfast back at Hogwarts, Farley hardly paid the activity around him any mind. His fellow Hufflepuffs might be bright-eyed and refreshed from their Holidays, but he was still not a morning person. Being awake at eight would always be too early for him - no matter how restful his Christmas Hols might have been.

"So, Goyle, how was your Christmas?" a far too familiar voice questioned as a girlish figure fell into place beside him. Turning his head, Farley leveled Alexis Abbott with a suspicious frown. "Fine," he answered.

A smile toying with the corners of her lips, she asked, "Did you get any nice gifts? My Uncle bought me a nice book on medical plants."

Farley cast a glance to the Staff Table. "You mean Professor Longbottom?" he inquired.

"Yes, Professor Longbottom," she answered.

Unable to help himself, Farley asked Abbott, "Is it weird being taught Herbology by him? Being his niece and all, I mean."

Reaching for the plate of buttered toast just out of her arm's reach, Alexis gave a small nod. "It is a little," she said, "but he's always been a little Professor-y, so, it wasn't too hard to adjust to it."

"Ah," Farley replied simply.

Eyes attentive as she met his gaze, the girl asked, "Did you get any nice gifts?"

"Mmm, not really, I guess. My mother took me to Germany to visit a cousin of hers for Christmas and my Birthday. We went to a number of nice restaurants while we were there and she bought me a tie with the German flag's colors to wear for special occasions and things. She's quite practical when it comes to gifts, you see. So, what I did get wasn't particularly  _wanted_ by me, you know?" he told Abbott.

Giving him a sympathetic smile, she asked, "Where was your Father? Didn't he buy you anything you wanted for Christmas or your birthday?"

Farley looked away. "He...had business to do. He couldn't come to Germany with us. But that happens some years, so it's okay," he assured Abbott when a frown began to replace her smile.

"I...Is that truth, Farley? It's okay if it's not, I understand that more traditional families aren't always happy with their children depending on where they end up house-wise."

"It is the truth," Farley lied with a scowl. "What happened at King's Cross wasn't something bad, okay? My mother had gotten held up and just couldn't be there on time. That's why she was snippy, there's nothing else to it!" he growled.

The girl blinked. Then, voice still soft and kind, she said, "I believe you, Farley. My dad was just worried for you, and thanks to some of the stories I've heard from Uncle Neville as well as a couple weeks to think about it, I..." she trailed off, giving an embarrassed little shrug. "You probably think I'm being a nutter, don't you?"

Farley didn't think that, actually. He was actually rather touched she cared at all. He'd yet to make a friend at Hogwarts and this was the first time anyone had reached out to him and shown any real interest in his life. "No, I don't," he replied empathetically. "Thank you for caring - even if it's not necessary."

The girl's cheeks flushed and then, cocking her head in a curious tilt, she remarked, "You really aren't a bad guy, are you?"

"I - no?" he muttered uncomfortably as he looked away to give his porridge a stir.

She laughed. "Hey, Farley, how'd you like to be my partner in Herbology this semester?" she asked. Then, leaning in, she whispered in a loud hush, "Maisie talks a little too much for taste."

"I can hear you," said girl grunted from a little ways down the table.

Smiling her way, Alexis gave the other girl a smirk. "That's okay, I was going to have to break it to you eventually."

"Actually, I'm glad you were the one to break it off. Your handwriting is atrocious. If I were you, Goyle, I'd make sure you're the one taking the notes or you'll fail your next Herbology exam," she shot back, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

Giving her a tentative nod, he said, "I'll keep that in mind."

"So, that's a yes then?" Alexis inquired eagerly.

Farley considered the girl. She was the Professor's niece, she probably knew a trick or two that would help him get a good grade to show his parents. Also, it'd be nice to have a friend again. He'd forgotten how pleasant it could be to have a conversation with someone beside his mother or one of the professors.

Giving a wide grin that surely made his cheeks dimple as they were wont to do, he answered, "Yeah, I'll be your partner."

"Wicked!" Alexis exclaimed with a happy clap of her hands.

Farley couldn't help but be infected with her joy. "I'd say so," he hummed as he brought the pitch of pumpkin juice over for Alexis once he saw her eyeing it. "With you as a partner, I'll probably get a half-way decent grade for once in that class."

Accepting the pitcher with a smile, she told Farley, "Half-way decent? Try great, Farley! If you don't ace Herbology with me as your partner, I'll eat my sock!"

He chuckled. Taking a bite of his porridge, Farley couldn't help but think that maybe, things were finally looking up.


	24. Legacy

"Bloody doxies!" Farley's mother cursed as she cast a knockback jinx upon the ones who dared to try and attack her.

Anxiously, from his spot behind the shop counter, he asked, "Should I run to Mulpepper's for some Doxycide?"

Whirling around so quickly some of her hair came loose from the bun, she hissed, " _No_. Don't be stupid, Farley. This isn't Hogsmeade or even Diagon Alley! It's Knockturn Alley! If I were to send you out - even just a few shops down - I'd probably never see you again."

He shrank back in the high-backed chair his mother had instructed him to sit in over an hour ago. "Why am I here, then?" he demanded petulantly. "You said you wanted me to help you clean up the shop, but I haven't done  _anything_!"

Eyes going large with annoyance, his mother opened her mouth to begin what was surely to be a furious tirade, when a doxy zoomed over and bit her on the chin. Swatting the creature away with a scream, she spun back around and vanished the curtains.

Hands over his mouth to hide his shock and suppress his laughter, Farley whispered, "Mother…"

"Oh, I give up!" she yelled as she threw down her wand. "At this rate we won't open the shop until you're  _thirty_!"

Watching in silence as his mother stalked toward the shop's door and kicked over their bucket of cleaning supplies, Farley found himself afraid. What did he do? What did he say? Farley wasn't even sure he should move at this point. His mother's wand might be on the dusty floor, but Farley was not so senseless as to believe that'd stop her from hexing him if he did something she didn't like.

Finally, getting up, Farley approached his trembling mother at a cautious pace. Once he was beside her, he took extra care not to look at her face as he reached down for her wand. Picking it up, he offered it to her.

"Thank you," she said, taking it.

Bobbing his head in response, Farley stared out at the occupants of Knockturn Alley through Trankleshank's grime-covered front window. There were a couple of girls lurking around the mouth of an alleyway. One appeared to be no older than Farley, but even from across the street, and through a dirty windowpane, he could tell what she was living a far different life.

The way the girl kept smiling at men who passed her by was more than enough to indicate what existence God had cursed her with.

Looking away from the bleak sight, Farley let his eyes follow a man who walked hand in hand with a girl of about nine. They were laughing, obviously having a good time together. Again, the scene caused Farley to feel poorly. He and his father used to walk around like that.

Sighing, he finally turned his gaze over to his mother and asked, "Are you okay now?"

Her stare was sharp when it found his. "I've been  _okay_ this whole time, Farley Goyle," she said.

"Hm," Farley replied, hoping the wordless sound would show his mother that he was okay with letting it go - even if he didn't believe her.

Raking a hand through her disheveled locks, she told Farley, "After the war, with your grandparents dead, I tried to sell this place."

"Really?"

"No one would buy it," his mother continued with a low chuckle. "Everyone knew it'd belonged to them, to me, their would-be Death Eater daughter."

Farley felt his stomach begin to slosh, just like it always did when he was reminded of his parents unsavory past. "Mother-" he began, but, loudly, she cut him off.

"I was selling it for a quarter of its value then and, still, no one would even come  _look_ at it. That's when your father came. It'd been almost three years since I last saw him and there he was, looking around my family's shop. I asked him what he wanted, since people were still watching me, and all Death Eater children, for that matter, closely.

"As idiotic as always, he told me he was looking to buy my shop. I knew that wasn't true, Farley. He'd just gotten out of Azkaban a few months ago and running a business was the last thing he had the mind for. Even so, I didn't turn him away. I played along for a bit and then we got to talking.

"First it was about me. Then him. After that, Draco, who'd become something of a shut-in and that lead to his would-be Princess, Pansy, who was living and working in the muggle world while raising Draco's illegitimate daughter. Next it was about Theodore, who'd reconnected with his maternal grandparents. After him, we spoke about Daphne, Tracey, Blaise and even Vincent…"

"Finally, he told me I could keep my shop if I'd marry him. He told me he'd take care of me."

Farley, awed by the story his mother was telling him, asked, "Did you say yes right then?"

His mother's lips quirked in a smirk. "No," she answered. "It took a few more months. By then I was desperate enough for money to agree. No one had bought the shop, nor would anyone hire me. The last thing I wanted to do was become a common whore and I believed - still do, even - that working a muggle job would have been beneath me."

"Did you love Father at all by then?" Farley asked, curious.

His mother frowned. "I felt…appreciative. Friendly toward your father. For a time, I even admired his obstinance. I can't say I loved him. But my parents were never in love, either. They were excellent, excellent partners. They understood each other and knew how to work together, but as my father explained to me once, they were more like coworkers than lovers."

Farley asked, worried, "Has anyone in our family ever married for love?"

Rolling her eyes, his mother replied, "Have you paid any attention to Missis Rachel and Mister Ephram? They're more in love than anyone I've ever met! It's rather disgusting."

This made him laugh, both in relief and at his mother's distaste. "That's right," Farley said with a grin. Pursing his lips next, Farley, changing subject, questioned, "Why are we cleaning up the shop now, Mother? You didn't want it after the war, but you do now?"

She shook her head. "Not especially," she answered. "But, I'm going to open it for your future, Farley. Times are changing and with you being a Hufflepuff, we could probably earn ourselves a rather decent customer base when you take over. While the Goyles were not left penniless like myself, their fortune won't last either. This shop could do you and your descendants well."

Farley blinked. "Oh," he replied. While he felt pleased knowing this shop was being rebuilt for him, Farley also was upset at the realization that once again, his parents were trying to mold him to their wants. Hadn't they learned Farley wouldn't do that once he was sorted to Hufflepuff?

Evidently not.

Reaching over, his mother suggested to Farley, "Why don't you go get the rag and bucket we brought along today, hm? You can clean the windows while I start on the back room."

Nodding his agreement, Farley did so. As he started on cleaning the windows, he began to ponder just what his future might hold. Would he continue to disappoint his family by going against their wishes? Or would Farley conform to his mother's hopes and retain her affection?

Farley couldn't say. He wasn't very smart and he had no vision. He hardly knew what he wanted to do tomorrow, let alone five years from now.

He supposed in time he'd find out.


	25. Hema Chopra, Expectations and Family History

Crunching down on a piece of buttered toast, Farley knew he was behaving like a loon, but he couldn't help himself. Sure, Hema Chopra was a muggleborn (or mublood as his father would say in private company), but she had to be the prettiest first year out of all of the houses.

She was already taller than most of the girls in her year, she had thick, shiny black curls that complimented her sienna skin and dark grey eyes. Her features, while not delicate, were well proportioned to her face and made her look like one of those drawings of a Saudi Arabian princess that he'd seen in an antiquated travel book of his mother's.

The best part, though, was she was a  _Hufflepuff_. Like him.

An elbow dug into his side. Grimacing, he dropped what was left of his toast back onto his plate. Afterward he turned his head only to find that Abbott was frowning intently at him. "You are so obvious," she told him.

"Y-You mind your own business, Abbott," Farley stuttered, flushing despite his best intentions to just look mean.

Smirking at him, the girl just lifted her chin high as she proclaimed, "You fancy Hema, don't you?"

Casting a nervous glance toward Hema. He soaked up the way she was laughing at something Abbott's little sister had said to her. He wished he could find a way to make her laugh like that. But even more than that, Farley wished he knew how to talk to her without getting all tongue-tied  _period_.

"No," he lied. "I can't, my parents would have a-" he clamped his mouth shut suddenly, realizing he was about to let Abbott know that his family still thought about things in the old way.

Abbott's features twisted into something akin to pity. "Hey, you can like who you want. It's not up to them how you live your life," she told him gently.

Dropping his gaze to the table, Farley just shook his head. "I can't disappoint them anymore," he whispered. He didn't know why he was telling Abbott of all people this, but there was something just so... _honest_ about her tone.

"I guess they didn't really plan on you being a Hufflepuff, did they?" his housemate deduced easily.

Glancing up and toward the Slytherin table, Farley spied Scorpius Malfoy having what appeared to be a heated row with Opal Montague. He knew that his father had expected him to become a Slytherin like him. Become Malfoy's associate just like he'd been with Scorpius's father. Keep his mouth shut and learn his lessons so he could someday work the job his father picked for him. But instead of becoming a Slytherin, he became a Hufflepuff. Instead of striking up a mutually beneficial relationship with Malfoy, he became close acquaintances with Alexis Abbott. Thankfully, beyond that, he was still doing just as his father wanted and maybe, in the end, he would still do his old man proud.

"No," he answered finally. "I believe that was the last thing they expected."

The girl snorted in an unattractive fashion and looked over at Hema with a calculating stare. "You know," she began conversationally, "She's got a bit of a unibrow."

Farley shrugged. His mother wasn't exactly an ideal example of feminine beauty either. Pursing her lips at his reaction, Abbott continued, "And her front teeth, they're a bit long. Kind of makes her look like a rabbit, wouldn't you say?"

"I like rabbits," Farley replied. They made for especially good stew.

Sighing loudly at this, Abbott declared, "Okay, I didn't want to say this, but I heard from Sheba that she drools in her sleep."

Fighting down his grin, Farley countered, "That's all right, I snore."

"I'm done!" the girl exclaimed. "I tried to break your little crush, but I guess that's not gonna happen anytime soon, huh?"

"No," he agreed. He was actually a little proud of his stubbornness. All his life he'd not been allowed to be obstinate because his parents had "no time for pigheaded boys," as they'd say. But here, at Hogwarts, he was learning how to be and someday, he hoped it'd be what tipped the scale to him getting what he wanted in the future.

Maybe it'd be Hema; maybe it'd be an E on his Transfiguration N.E.W.T.S or third place in the Dueling Club's end of the year competition. Whatever it would be, Farley knew he'd look back to moments like this one as his reason for why he got what he wanted. After all, stubbornness wasn't always something one was born with. Sometimes it was something you had to learn.

Drumming her fingers along the wood of Hufflepuff's table, Abbot said softly, "If your parents ever throw you out, you just let me know. My dad's a softie, as you may remember from Christmas Hols last year, he'll let you come stay with us."

Blinking in surprise at what Abbott was offering and saying, Farley asked, "How do you know that?"

Turning her head away, Abbott began, "About sixteen years back, he met a girl who'd just been told by her family she was disowned on the platform at King's Cross. As you might know, even after the war, things weren't peachy. She'd been caught by her little sister snogging a muggleborn and her family, staunch believers in the old ways, cut her out of their family when they heard.

"My dad didn't have to help her, he had enough of his own problems. His mother had been killed four years earlier and him and my aunt were just barely getting by at the time on their inheritance and my aunt's barmaid's wage. Despite all of this, he invited this girl to come live with him and my aunt.

"That summer, the two of them got very close and by the beginning of the school year, before he sent her off for her final year, he proposed. They married the next summer and they lived happily for the next four years. Then I was born. They were extra happy after that, and when they found out she was pregnant with Sheba...My dad says the right word to describe how they felt at the time was elated. They didn't stay elated too long, though. My mum died after giving birth to Sheba. My Dad was all alone then with just his sister and us after that. Has been since then, too. But don't worry, we do just fine!"

Absorbing all that Abbott had just told him, the first thing he thought to say was, "Thank you for the offer."

Looking at him through her lashes, she asked in a small voice, "You don't feel badly about me not having a mum?"

"No," Farley answered. "I'm sure it must be really awful sometimes, but you and your sister seem happy enough. If you'd told me last year things might be different, but I know you. You're fine, you're sister's fine - just like you said - so there's nothing about you to pity."

Abbott blinked her doe-eyes at Farley. Then she grinned. "Thanks, I appreciate that," she told him.

"It's no trouble," Farley replied before he reached for a sausage off the serving dish sitting in front of him.

 


	26. You Know What They Say About Familiars and their Owners…

When Farley came down from his room for dinner on December twenty-ninth, he was more than a little surprised by his parents' announcement.

"Farley, since you will be turning thirteen in two days time, we think it's time you have a familiar," his mother told him.

Looking between her and his equally serious-faced father, Farley could only say, "Okay. Erm, what am I getting?"

His parents shared a look.

"That's up to you, son," his father told him.

Gawking at them, Farley doesn't know what to say in response. He'd never given familiars much thought. Sure, he'd felt a little jealous when he learned Alexis had her own owl and didn't have to use the school ones, but he'd not really  _wanted_ one. He'd seen what Perry Smith's owl had done to his face, after all. Farley wasn't too keen on owning an animal that could at any moment turn on him and maul his face within an inch of being disfigured.

He'd also seen Albus Potter running around the castle numerous times in hunt for his missing ferret. While he'd heard time and time again how clever the wily things were, Farley wasn't particularly interested in hunting one down on a biweekly basis.

Farley also knew from the few stories his parents had shared of their own school days that his mother had owned a cat. However, if Farley picked that as his familiar, he knew it'd make his father grumble. Cats were for  _girls,_ he'd say.

Some of the other Weasley's had those pygmypuffs, but they were so tiny that Farley feared he's squish it by accident if he sat down too quickly without looking.

Then there was the possibility of having a toad or rat...but he didn't really care for either of those either. Toads were slimy and rats bit you.

Eyeing his parents warily, he asked with some hesitation, "Couldn't I just get a new wand holster?"

"Don't you want a familiar?" his mother asked, a fretful tone to her usually bland tone. "I thought all boys your age wanted one if they didn't have one already…"

Farley shifted uncomfortably. His mother always seemed to be fretting about Farley's lack of desire and ambition these days. Farley thought he desired things plenty, (for people to forget who his dad was, to have Hema Chopra for a girlfriend and to be the best duelist in Dueling Club) but ambition? What did he need that for? Even if he'd been in Slytherin, he knew his future would be the same as it was now.

He didn't have say in what was going to happen to him, so why bother?

Sighing, Farley relented. "Yes, I do, I just don't know what I'd want..."

"We can go Menagerie's, Farley, don't fret," his mother told him.

Doing his best to smile, he nodded. "Thank you, Mother," he said.

"It's no trouble, isn't that right, Gregory?"

His father blinked. Looking slowly between his mother and Farley, he nodded when his mother's lips began to twitch as they often did when she was annoyed. "Yes, that's right," he echoed.

"You weren't paying any attention to your son  _or_ the conversation, were you, Gregory Goyle?" his mother hissed.

Frowning, Father muttered, "Wasn't much of a conversation at all, I bet."

Nostrils flaring, Mother opened her mouth wide to give Father what-for as Farley sighed. Reaching for the bowl of carrots, he did his best to tune out their bickering as he filled his plate with a generous helping.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Walking the noisy isles of Magical Menagerie's, Farley feared nothing would ever catch his eye. The creatures that were proudly on display just weren't what he was looking to own. The fact his mother was studying the owls with an intense glare told Farley if he didn't pick something soon, she would be doing it for him.

Debating once again if a toad would be better than owning a possibly barmy owl, Farley saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he smiled at what he saw.

Now  _that_ , Farley could get behind.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Blonde brows furrowed, Alexis pulled away from the the tabletop and shook her head. "I just don't get why you'd pick  _this_ over every other creature there."

"It's simple," Farley replied as he fed his new familiar, Morrison, a radish. "I feed him twice a day and I never have to worry about losing Morrison because he doesn't move fast."

Raising an eyebrow, Alexis gave an amused chuff when Morrison completely missed chomping down on the radish. "He's also a little dumb, from the looks of it," she remarked.

"What do you expect?" Perry Smith proclaimed as he butted in to the conversation. Waving his fork around, he sing-songed, "You know what they say, familiars take after their owners!"

Glowering at the uppity brunette, Farley grumbled, "Belt up, Smith. We weren't talking to you anyway."

"So rude," the boy sniffed as he went back to his dinner.

After a long, drawn out look at Smith from the corner of her eye, Alexis turned back to Farley and smiled. "Even if Morrison's a little dumb, he's quite cute. Or, he is for a tortoise, anyway."

Farley grinned back. "Thanks, Alexis," he said.

As long as Alexis approved, whatever Smith had to say about Morrison didn't matter.


	27. Blushing Pilgrims

He didn't bother to look up at the sound of feet crunching through the snow and dry grass. Instead, Farley continued to move his arms and legs up and out, in and down, making the best snow angel he possibly could in the winter's first fall.

Moments later, however, his vision of blue skies was replaced with the ruddy-cheeked countenance of one Alexis Abbott. Sighing, Farley carefully sat up and pushed himself out of his angel. Admiring it once standing, he was about to start to use the toe of his shoe to round out a corner of his wing when-

"Trisha told me and the rest of the girls that Leila Pendleton finally kissed her," she told Farley.

Farley sighed. "Yeah?" he replied. "Well, good for Trisha."

Brows knitting together, his friend crossed her arms and remarked in a sulky tone, "All the girls but me have been kissed by somebody other than their parents now."

"There are only four Hufflepuff girls in our year - not counting you," Farley reminded her. "You don't think all the boys have kissed somebody, do you? I  _know_ Smith hasn't snogged anybody."

A bit of a smile played on Alexis's lips then. "Well, who'd want to lock lips with that bigmouth?"

"Exactly!" Farley laughed. "It's really not a big deal, you know? It's not like  _I've_ kissed anybody either, you know?"

Alexis raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Not even Ulyssa Flint when you were little?"

Farley shifted, uncomfortable with the idea of recalling his childhood with the girl who'd not so much as look at him anymore. "Well…I don't  _recall_  kissing her," he mumbled.

The girl snickered.

He scowled, face turning even redder. "What's so funny?"

"It's just - oh, I'm sure you were a really adorable toddler Farley, but  _her_ …"

Despite that they hadn't been friends in years, Farley couldn't let her insult Ulyssa so wantonly. "She's not ugly!" he decried.

"She's not pretty either," Alexis snorted.

Farley frowned. "She's just going through an awkward phase - she's fourteen this year, you know?" he defended.

This made the girl narrow her eyes, lips pursed out in irritation. "Sometimes, Farley, you really confuse me. You've told me she hexed you and jinxed you every chance she had the first couple months of our first year and that she won't even talk to you anymore, but you get all bent out of shape when I poke fun at her.

"You don't care when I do that to Smith - or Coote and his cronies, for that matter," she told him.

He looked down. Farley couldn't explain to Alexis that even now, someday, he hoped that Ulyssa would finally give him a chance to explain himself and that then they could go back to being the best friends they were before she went to Hogwarts.

Sighing loudly when he refused to give any response, Alexis changed topic by saying, " _Anyway_ …It seems to me everyone's having their first kiss and I'm still a virgin to just about everything - hand-holding, cuddling, snogging, being felt up, etcetera, etcetera. Now, I know we aren't  _in love_ , Farley, but I think I love you - as my friend."

Farley felt a little lump in the back of his throat. "I love you too, as a friend," he replied in little more than a whisper.

Alexis smiled, looking to her hands bashfully. "I know this will probably seem silly, but, would you like to be my first kiss? It won't cause, like, fireworks or anything, but it'll be nice knowing I had it with someone I really, really care about."

He felt a both a little honored and queasy at the thought. Farley was pleased that she trusted and loved him enough to want to share something so special with him, but he also worried that it might make things weird and uncomfortable between them. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, it could, you know, make things… _weird_."

Big eyes determined, Alexis proclaimed, "Only if we let it!"

Farley had to look away. "I - okay…" he relented.

"Oh! Farley!" Alexis squealed, enveloping him in a tight hug. "Thank you!"

He briefly squeezed her back. "Yeah, I get it, I'm the best. Now, how are we going to do this  _thing_."

"It's a  _kiss,_ Farley! Don't make it sound like it's a chore!" Alexis chided as she let go of him. Pouting then, she batted her mascara heavy lashes at him and suggested, "Why don't you bend your neck down and I'll lift mine up - but do it with your eyes closed! Okay? It's creepy to kiss with them open!"

Shaking his head in exasperation, Farley had to take a moment to get over a fit of giggles before telling Alexis, "Alright, I'm ready."

Grinning then, she shouted, "On the count of three!"

"One! Two! Three!"

And then he was kissing her. Her lips were soft and sticky from her favorite sparkly banana pudding flavored gloss, but he didn't mind. This wasn't how Farley had ever imagined his first kiss would be like, but he was actually pretty glad they were doing this now, he realized. He'd been kind of worried about never finding a girl to kiss and feel up and stuff too.

He was Gregory Goyle's son and no self-respecting light side descendant would ever stoop to think of him as anything romantic. By being a Hufflepuff, he'd pretty much killed any chance he might have with someone from Slytherin, or any of those who might have him in Ravenclaw too.

So, even though there were no fireworks, like Alexis had predicted, he was pleased.

When they pulled away, Alexis, not meeting his gaze asked, "Well?"

"It was nice," he told her.

She pouted. " _Nice_?" she grumbled.

Farley gave a helpless shrug. "It  _was_ ," he insisted. "There wasn't any spark or anything, but it felt good. I  _liked_ it."

Giggling into her hand, Alexis stumbled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Farley," she said, "you're so easy to tease."

Flushing, he demanded, "What's that supposed to me?"

"I thought it was nice too," she answered with a chuckle. "I was just acting pissy to fluster you a bit. For fun!"

Farley rolled his eyes and groaned. "Alexis!"

Still vibrating with silent giggles against him, Alexis looked up. "You really didn't feel a spark, though?" she questioned, eyes showing her fear.

"Not a bit," he answered.

She put a hand to her heart. "Good," she sighed.

Farley had to agree.

"Hey, since we're done fixing your crisis, how about we head in? I'm beginning to get a bit cold," Farley suggested to her.

"That sounds lovely," Alexis concurred.

And together, they slowly made their way back to Hogwarts w


	28. Page Three and a Sick Mother

Lazing about on Chip Cornfoot's bed in their dorm as they did their own things, Farley was close to finishing up a letter to his parents when a balled up sock hit him in the face.

Scrunching his nose, he turned his head to glare at the smirking Chip. "What was that for?" he demanded.

His fellow fourteen-year-old's smile only becoming more impish as he told Farley, "Come here once."

"Why?" Farley asked even while he moved to sit up and scoot over to Chip's side.

Pulling out what appeared to be a magazine, the blonde asked, "How much do you know about muggle stuff?"

"Are you kidding?" Farley returned, giving Chip a truly perplexed frown.

This drew a laugh from the other boy. "That dumb of a question, huh?"

"My parents  _are_ Gregory and Millicent Goyle, you realize. My last name isn't jus a coincidence," he huffed as he perched himself right beside Chip.

Shrugging as he fiddled with the tabloid that Farley could now tell was named  _The Sun_ , Chip said, "Wasn't one hundred percent sure. You  _are_ a Hufflepuff, and friends with Alexis Abbott…"

"Times are changing," Farley muttered.

Nodding, Chip remarked, "Then I guess you've never heard of  _The Sun_ , huh?"

"No."

Grinning as he flipped back the cover page, Chip explained, "Well, it's kind of infamous, in the muggle world, you see."

"Why's that?" Farley questioned, wishing that the other boy would just get to the point.

"It' because of this!" Chip declared, turning the page to reveal a smiling, topless woman.

Farley gaped.

Laughing, the blonde said, "I bet this is the first time you've seen something like this, huh?"

"Muggles let teenagers buy this kind thing?" Farley demanded as he took the tabloid from Chip, ogling the picture of the woman.

Chip shifted. "Well, not quite. A cousin of mine sent in the copy he bought a couple weeks ago for my birthday."

"You already had your birthday?" Farley cried, finally ripping his gaze away from the ample bosom printed on the page.

The boy gave a quick dip of his head. "It was the second of September, actually. Don't worry, though. I didn't really know you and Alexis then. But seeing as we're shaping up to be pretty good mates, you can just buy me two Christmas presents rather than one!" he finished with a wink.

Farley laughed. Chip was pretty brilliant, he thought. Plus, he was more clever than the rest of the Hufflepuffs he'd had the misfortune of rooming with for the last three years. The last clever person he'd had the pleasure of talking with was Ulyssa and that had been  _years_ ago.

He might not be all the sharp himself, but it didn't mean Farley couldn't appreciate it.

"How are you not in Ravenclaw?" he inquired as he handed  _The Sun back_ to Chip (though, he'd have to keep an eye out for any more he might get).

Chip shrugged. "The hat said I had the brains for it, but I told it I'd rather be in my mother's house. She's sick, you see. I knew it'd really make her happy if I went to Hufflepuff."

Farley nodded. "If you don't mind me asking, why did you go to Durmstrang at all? Surely you could have come by portkey here or something?" he questioned.

"I could have," Chip agreed. "But, I wanted to be close to my mum, because it's like I said, she's sick. We moved back to Britain due to the fact she's been getting worse and my dad wants her to be close to her family in case she doesn't get better."

"You don't think she'll get better?" Farley whispered, feeling his heart give a sympathetic little squeeze.

Chip looked away. Curling his knees close to his chest, the boy laid his head on his knees and sighed. "I want her to," he confided in Farley. "Really, really badly," he mumbled. "But the healers think she could go either way at this point, so, we're preparing for the worst."

Gnawing at his lip, Farley considered what he should say. A stupid "I'm sorry" just didn't seem right. It also didn't help that Farley was out of his depth. He knew very little about sick, dying people and even much less about parents you were actually afraid to lose. However, Farley did know someone Chip could talk to about this.

"You should really talk to Alexis. I know she's a girl and all, but - don't tell her I said this - her mum's dead. I'm sure she must know at least a little better what you're feeling than I do."

Eyes puffy as he looked back at Farley, Chip mumbled, "You think?"

"I know."

Cracking a wobbly smile, the blonde dipped his head in thanks. "You're a good bloke, Farley Goyle," he said.

A warm feeling creeping up his neck, Farley turned away. "It's no trouble, Chip."

"Still, thanks a heap, mate."

Ducking his head in bashfulness, Farley looked back to the tabloid laying on the bed. "Got any more of those?" he asked Chip, hoping they could back to the lighthearted chatter of before.

Chuckling, Chip twisted around to reach under his bed. "A stack worth," he answered as he pulled out a box.

Laughing himself, Farley said, "Let's have a look see at them all, then!"


	29. Just Another Goyle

"Keep the line orderly, girls and boys. One at a time, now. Well, aren't you a brave one Miss Lee? Going first are you?" Professor Grimmett prattled as he finished organizing the fourth year DADA class into something like a line.

From his spot behind Chip, Farley shifted uneasily. He wasn't excited for today's lesson. They were going to face a Boggart and practice their  _Riddikulus_ charm. Unfortunately for Farley, he was not the kind of person with an imagination - so, the chances of him figuring out something funny to turn his fear into were quite slim.

The other issue was he didn't even  _know_ what his greatest fear was. He was pretty scared of small spaces, but he didn't think a Boggart would be able to box him in one, so the chances of that being it were unlikely. He was also pretty terrified of his father when he was yelling, but not so afraid that he thought it would be what the Boggart became.

"Stop swaying like that, Farley," Alexis complained from behind him. "I want to see what Shannon turns the Boggart into!"

He stiffened. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Chip turned his head, eyes bright with curiosity. "What are you so worked up about? I thought Transfiguration was the only thing that made you squirm," he said.

Farley shrugged his shoulders helplessly. He didn't really know what to say. It'd probably sound stupid if he tried to explain, anyway. A lot of the class was probably nervous about facing the Boggart. His reason for facing it felt pretty trivial to him.

"It's just, you know, I don't know how good I'll be at the spell..." he explained.

Alexis gave his hand a squeeze. "Just start thinking of something funny now, Farley. Because even if you forget it for a moment up there, at least you'll have it when your wits come back."

Farley smiled at his friend. "You're right, as always," he replied.

Alexis preened under the compliment. A twinkle coming to her smile. "Why thank you for realizing that!" she giggled.

Chuffing his own amusement, Farley turned his head forward and started thinking hard. Surely he could come up with  _something_ between now and his turn?

-v-v-v-v-v-

Finely wrinkled face pleasant, Professor Grimmett gave the box holding the Boggart a pat as he gestured Farley forward.

"Come on now, Mister Goyle. Let's not dawdle now," he said with a smile lilting at the corners of his lips. His fingers were already curling around the lid of the Boggart's box as Farley took a step forward and raised his wand.

Feeling a sweat break out on the back of his neck, Farley closed his eyes as he prayed to his father's God, ' _please, oh please, don't let me make a fool of myself Lord...'_

When he opened them, he saw the lid was open and it was within the split second following that his greatest, deepest fear came into being.

There was a grave.

It was the same as the grave his Grandmother had been bestowed upon her passing last winter. It was just like the graves of his great grandparents and even those before them - a trademark Goyle grave.

What caused his mouth to drop open, though, was the birthdate upon the grave. January seventh two thousand six. The death date didn't even really matter to him - not as much as what else it held.

All the grave said beside his birth and death date was  _Goyle_.

It was  _horrible_.

Out of everything Farley feared in life, this had to be it. Dying and only being remembered as another, faceless Goyle. Essentially a nobody.

Jaw moving mechanically, he tried to find his voice as he began to mouth, " _Riddikulus, Riddikulus, Riddikulus…_ "

However, his lips never managed a sound.

Finally, Professor Grimmett took pity and stepped forward. The Boggart changed shape, becoming a tall dark silhouette with a bone-white face - a Death Eater. Then, he shouted, " _Riddikulus_!" and it became troll on a unicycle, laughing at a manic pitch.

Putting a hand on Farley's shoulder, the professor said, "I guess you'll just have to give it another go next time, eh, Mister Farley?"

He nodded, but knew that he'd be skipping their next several DADA classes rather than perchance have to go through this again. Having his deepest fear revealed to him had shaken Farley to his very core and he was now questioning everything about himself.

Had Farley not been making progress in separating himself from his family name? He'd thought he had been, but maybe not enough for his subconscious.

Walking away from the front of the room and back toward his desk, he heard Rose Weasley muttering to her friend, Adeline White, "What kind of fear is a gravestone? Is he afraid of dying?"

The other girl leaned in and mumbled back, "It could be that. Though, I never got to see what the headstone said from here…"

"Yes, well, if it  _is_ death he fears, I hope it's not a bad sign.  _Voldemort_  feared dying, you know. And his family  _did_ support that vile man, you know," she hissed back in reply as Farley passed her by.

Ignoring the pair, he took his seat beside Chip and stared ahead at nothing.

"Hey, mate, it's okay, you know? You weren't the first one not to be able to do it," the blond muttered to him.

Absently, Farley nodded. "I do know," he answered. "I just - I wasn't expecting that," he told Chip.

The other boy asked, "What  _were_ you expecting then?"

Farley, at a loss, could only shake his head. "I don't know…Not  _that_."

"Uh-huh," Chip muttered, giving him a quizzical look.

He knew his friend was confused and wanted to ask more questions, but Farley was glad he knew better than to. He didn't know how he'd deal with them, nor did he know if he had any answer at all that would satisfy Chip. Slumping in his chair, he closed his eyes and just tried to clear his mind.

In twenty minutes, he'd be on his way to Care of Magical Creatures and he could forget this whole mess.


	30. Minding for a Favor

"No, no, I don't know the first  _thing_ about little girls, Mother!" Farley stressed as he followed her down the stairs to the back parlor where they rarely had guests and mostly just spent evenings together as a family in when he was small.

Levitating old toys of Farley's into a neat pile atop the room's coffee table, his mother, decked out in her best jewelry pursed her coral-painted lips and said, "Hush now, Farley. From what I hear, Dominique is very well behaved. Besides, Zabini will owe us quite the favor if you watch Dominique tonight while us adults are at the banquet."

Debating the idea of dropping to his knees and begging, the teenager pleaded once again, "I don't know a thing, Mother. She could end up  _dead_ or something if I'm left to watch her!"

Finished with making the pile, the woman fussed with her hair for a moment before turning around to glare at Farley. "Don't be so dramatic, Farley. You take fine care of that turtle of yours and your father and I are only going to be a Floo call away."

"Mother-"

Breathing in deeply through her nose, his mother roared, " _You will do this for me or so help me, Farley!_ "

The teenager immediately hunched his shoulders and dipped his head down. He was quite sure he was doing a fine impression of Morrison when cornered by Hopkin's cat in the boy's dorm.

"Okay," he murmured. "I don't see why you always have to yell..."

Relaxing, his mother gave him one last scornful look as she quipped, "It's because that's the only way you ever seem to listen."

Slouching even more, Farley muttered something unsavory beneath his breath. Swatting his bum as she passed him, his mother called, "Lose that hunchback and attitude, Farley. The Zabinis will be here any moment!"

Glowering at her retreating back, Farley went over to the sofa and took a seat. He wasn't going to wait in the other room with her and greet the Zabinis as they came through the Floo. They were ruining his night, after all. Sure, he didn't have any  _plans,_ but it would have been nice if he could have just lazed about his bedroom and the rest of the manor alone for a few hours while his parents were gone for the evening.

The sound of footsteps approaching, Farley straightened right up and looked toward the doorway. His mother was talking a mile a minute at Mister Zabini while little Dominique hung off her father's hand with a bored expression.

Smiling at him as they come into the room, his mother remarked to the man, "Farley's a Hufflepuff, Blaise. He'll do a lovely job of watching Dominique. Hufflepuffs  _are_  so caring, you know?"

Dark eyes glaring at him, Mister Zabini narrowed them even further as he sneered, "Yes, I'm sure he will. After all, Hufflepuff is where all the poofters and effeminate nothings come from. I hear they have quite the talent with young children."

Farley scowled. However, it turned into a smirk when his mother jabbed her wand into the man's side while she hissed, "Watch your tongue in  _my_  home, Zabini!"

If nothing else, Farley knew his mother would never let anyone insult him based on his sorting. These days, he was even beginning to suspect she actually felt  _pride_ when she was able to tell others about him being a hufflepuff rather than a slytherin. It seemed she was really starting to understand the benefits of his sorting (unlike Father), just as he had begun to four years ago.

It was funny to Farley, how before going to Hogwarts, his father had been his best ally within his family, but now it was his mother. It could switch again at some point, he supposed, but it seemed rather unlikely these days.

Why couldn't they both be on his side? Why must it be only one or the other? Farley loved  _both_ of them...

"My apologies," Mister Zabini said insincerely as he smoothly stepped away and gave his spawn a push toward Farley. "This is Farley Goyle, Dominique, he'll be watching you this evening."

The little girl, dressed in a bubblegum pink dress and pigtails, gave her father a pout. "Why couldn't the house elves watch me like always?" she demanded.

"Because instead of minding you lately they've just been stuffing you full of sweets. Why they keep disobeying my orders I don't know, but no one likes a fat little girl, Dominique. At the rate things are going, you  _will_ be one by your next birthday if I keep leaving the elves to mind you."

The six year old crossed her arms and huffed loudly.

"Be good," Mister Zabini ordered.

The child crossed her arms and grit, "Yes, Father."

Nodding at this, Zabini gave a dip of his head toward the doorway and getting the message, Mother and he turned around, leaving Farley and Dominique all alone.

Staring at each other for a long moment, neither said anything.

When she tired of staring, the girl turned her attention to the toys and asked, "Is that  _all_ you have for toys?"

Farley shrugged. "Probably," he answered, "Mother and father didn't believe much in spoiling me with toys."

There had been more than enough trips to the park and Misses and Mister Flint's home, though. It was because of this he'd never felt slighted about his childhood, even if his parents hadn't given him much, they'd made up for it tenfold through giving him people to meet and befriend. Even though Ulyssa had long since stopped being a friend, he'd never trade the memories he had of her for a room full of spectacular toys gathering dust.

Picking up a little unicorn figurine that neighed once in her grip, Dominique told Farley, "I have more dolls than you have of toys right here."

Not nearly as impressed as he bet the girl had hoped he would be, Farley just settled back in the sofa and said, "Well, isn't that nice?"

Dominique scowled.

Oh, this was going to be a long night...

-v-v-v-v-v-

Swearing to himself as he searched beneath the bathroom cupboard, Farley wondered why he'd agreed to a game of Hide and Seek with Dominique. It was like he hadn't ever  _listened_ to some of his fellow students at Hogwarts talk about the woes of babysitting younger siblings! This was such a rookie mistake that he was actually embarrassed that he fell for Dominique's trap.

Standing up, Farley went to back out into the hall and bellowed out, "If you don't show your face in the next ten seconds I will tell your father that you made a mess out of our kitchen!"

Counting to ten, Farley ended up cursing bloody murder when Dominique didn't appear.

"Oooh! Those are  _really_  bad words!" a child's voice sing-songed from behind.

Spinning around, the teenager grabbed her wrist as he hissed, "Don't you dare repeat any of them in front of your father or my parents or I'll-I'll-"

"You'll  _what_?" Dominique demanded with a smirk.

At a loss, Farley could only gape at her. Realizing he had lost the battle with Dominique, he asked her quite desolately, "Alright, what do you want?"

Her dewy dark eyes began to gleam. "Biscuits!" she exclaimed. "Oh, and chocolate!"

Farley bit the inside of his cheek. What was she going to say when she learned they didn't have any?

"Erm, we don't have either of those in the house...Mother's on a diet and, well..." he trailed off with an uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders.

Dominique blinked. Then, an absolutely crest-fallen look overcame her features. "Not at  _all_?" she whined.

"No," Farley sighed, feeling quite sad himself. He rather liked biscuits and not having any on hand had been bothering him the past few days since he'd come home for Christmas Hols too.

Stamping her little foot, the girl cried, "But - But that's not  _fair_!"

Patting her her head, Farley sighed. "I know," he replied. "Is there anything else you'd like?"

Crossing her arms, she shook her head. "No," she mumbled.

Putting a guiding hand on her shoulder, Farley began to steer them back toward the parlor where all his old toys were as he asked, "How about we play horsey when we get back to the parlor? Do you know that one? It's where you ride on my back and I pretend to be a horse. My father played that sometimes with me and I remember it being quite fun."

"Father has never played that one with me," Dominique told him.

Farley grinned. "Then you're in for quite the treat!" he exclaimed.

This drew a reluctant smile from the girl.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Staring at the teenager dozing on the sofa with the little girl tucked against him, Millicent turned to smirk at her old schoolmate. "Didn't I tell you, Blaise? He's an excellent babysitter!"

Frowning, the man harrumphed, "I guess he  _did_ tire Dominique out for me..."

Nodding, Millicent remarked, "Children are quite precious, wouldn't you say?"

"What do you want, Goyle?" Blaise sighed.

The woman smiled a secretive grin and said, "Just a promise that their will be a favor coming my family's way in case we may ever need it."

"Deal," Blaise agreed briskly as he offered a hand to the woman.

After shaking it, Millicent ordered, "Now, get your dirty spawn out of my home."

Blaise did not flinch. Instead, he stared at the woman with smoldering hatred. "Your insistence in clinging to the old ways after everything will be your family's downfall, you know."

"You're lying down with a mudblood and letting her spawn your halfbreed child is what killed your mother, you know," she mocked. "It was her fortune that sponsored almost half of the Lord's ventures, you might recall."

Neck muscles straining under dark skin, Blaise hissed at Millicent, "You are just as simple as your husband! I hope you someday know the same pain that I, and so many of our peers, have felt!"

Stalking past her then, he picked up his daughter and briskly passed the woman on his way to the floo.

"I can find my own way out!" he shouted back to her.

Millicent just smiled. She had gotten what she wanted from Blaise, after all.

"Mother?" Farley murmured sleepily from the sofa.

Approaching, she allowed herself a moment of softness and leaned over him to ruffle his hair. "Hush, Farley, Mister Zabini and Dominique are just leaving..."

Blinking tired eyes up at her, the boy mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over to go back to sleep. Shaking her head fondly, Millicent reflected that, yes, it was very cunning of her to extract a fair-sized favor like this from a man of Zabini's standing.


	31. Do Anything

Waltzing down Hogwarts dark corridors, Farley knew he should be paying better attention to his surroundings, but he couldn't bring himself too. He blamed it on the pot him; Cornfoot and Abbott had been smoking. It had made everything beyond playing the Rockin' Randolph's latest single "Summertime" on repeat in his head inconsequential.

Running his fingers against the stone walls of Hogwarts, Farley quietly sang a line to himself, " _Love, maybe we only got the summer, but we're gonna make it the time of our lives; oh yeah, oooh yeeaah..._ "

Frowning, Farley pondered how he'd not even gone out with a girl - let alone have a summertime romance with one. It was embarrassing, he thought, to be fifteen and never have gone out with a girl.

He was lucky him and Abbott had gotten their first kiss out of the way in their third year. It meant he wasn't a  _complete_ weirdo, at least. Stopping mid-step, he grumbled, "Stupid Cornfoot, coulda asked Abbott to be my girlfriend if he'd stay at Durmstrang..." He didn't mean that, of course. Well, not  _too_ much. Him and Abbott were good friends, but he'd never really been attracted to her in any major way. Sure, sometimes he thought her hair looked especially shiny or that she smelled good, but he thought that about a lot of girls.

Besides, he was still holding out hope that maybe someday Hema would notice him. Not that it was likely, he knew. Hema was quite happy as Hugo Weasley's girlfriend and it didn't look like that would be changing anytime soon. Merlin, with the way they looked at each other, they could end up married before they even finished their time at Hogwarts!

Shaking himself out of the unpleasant, unhappy thoughts revolving around Hema and how she'd never give him the time of day, he decided he should take the shortcut back to the Hufflepuff dorm.

Farley veered left abruptly and laughed quietly to himself as he thought about how Cornfoot and Abbott would react when they realized he'd snuck off when they were snogging. They probably wouldn't notice his absence for a while, but they all knew he had a habit of wandering outside when he was high. That was part of the reason why he'd decided to go back to the dorms when his friends had started making out in the first place. If he got himself to bed, maybe he'd fall asleep before the walls started feeling like the were closing in on him.

He didn't know why, but Farley's minor claustrophobia had a way of flaring to extreme levels when he smoked pot. It wasn't every time, or even most of the time, but when he was left to his own devices while under the influence for too long it had a way of getting to him. Maybe it was because his surroundings spun sometimes or because he started to feel too big for not only his clothes, but also the room he was in as well that caused it.

Whatever the reason was, it never took long once his claustrophobia gripped him for him to walk off. The smart thing to do would be to stop smoking, he knew, but Farley was far from smart. He stubbornly pushed forward in using the drug every chance he had because when it wasn't setting off his claustrophobia, it was putting him on a plane where everything was so much brighter. His life didn't feel so pathetic anymore and his future didn't look as bleak as it usually did.

If fact, when he was high, Farley felt like he could do just about anything.

"I could ask Hema out," he muttered to himself.

His mind's eye filling with her pretty smile, Farley paused for a moment. "Shoulda asked her when I had the chance," he told himself ruefully as he let out a deep sigh.

It was in the process of shaking his shaggy locks that Farley caught something from the corner of his eye. Frowning as his heartbeat picked up speed, Farley feared the worst. Was he caught? Had a professor or prefect spied him walking down the hall? Turning his head, the teenager was fully prepared to face the music for being out after hours, however his feeling of dread quickly melted away.

"What...?" he whispered.

In the shadows of a statue, Albus Potter was snogging with a redhead. There were a number of redheads at Hogwarts - most of them Weasleys - but the fact she was wearing Gryffindor robes narrowed it down to two options. Either the girl was Wendy Hopkins or Rose Weasley. Both were ridiculous, of course, Wendy was going out with Otto Boot and Rose Weasley was his cousin.

Gaping, Farley watched the girl's hair slide away from her face.

"No!" he couldn't help but half-shout.

The two jerked, pulling apart as if burned.

"Goyle!" Weasley barked. "What are you doing out here?"

Panic gripping him, Farley touched his face with his clammy hands and asked, "Am I hallucinating? Merlin, I know you can have a bad trip, but this is nuts!"

Pointing his wand at him, Potter ordered in a wavering tone, "Don't you dare move, Goyle!"

Farley didn't. There was something crazed about the other's boy green eyes and while he knew he was a daft bugger, he did have a sense of self-preservation.

Approaching slowly with his wand still raised, Potter hissed, "You won't tell anybody what you've seen if you know what's good for you."

"Albus!" Weasley decried. "You're just going to make him angry, threatening him like that!"

Farley was the farthest thing from angry, though. He was just confused. Why were they snogging? Was one of them actually adopted? Or...Did they have some kind of cousin-kink?

Before Potter could become stupidly scared by the idea of him becoming mad, Farley said, "I'm not angry. Just kind of confused. Why are you two making out in the shadows when you're supposed to be patrolling, Weasley? And then, either you could have your pick of the lads and girls at Hogwarts; so, why you're snogging I don't know. Once more, I'm just very confused here."

This seemed to sooth Potter as he slowly lowered his wand before pocketing it with one last glare. Beckoning Weasley to his side, Potter weaved their fingers together as he said; "I think you just hit it on the head, Goyle. We  _could_ have anyone we wanted here at Hogwarts...but that doesn't mean who we'd pick would love us. In fact, we  _have_ taken our pick before. Neither of us came out very happy from those relationships and when we realized that we might never find someone here that was going to love us properly...We gave up."

A small smile coming to her lips, Weasley gave Potter an adoring look as she said, "It was when we were commiserating about our bad luck in love that we realized something, you see. We'd been looking for love in all the wrong places when we already had it.  _We_ love each other. We love each other so much..."

"And that's all there is to it," Potter concluded with finality.

It still didn't make sense to him, but Farley figured he better let this go and just forget it if he didn't want to end up on the botched-up end of a poorly done Memory Charm.

Nodding after a moment, he said slowly, "Ah, I see."

"You don't," Weasley replied in a breezy tone. "But that's okay, we don't blame you."

Smiling in agreement at his cousin, Potter told him, "Just keep this to yourself."

"Planned to," he muttered. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go to bed."

"Of course."

Carefully turning his back on them, Farley walked quickly down the hall, thinking all the while, ' _I might be the son of the infamous Gregory Goyle, but at least my fame hasn't messed_ me  _up so bad that I'd consider snogging my cousin!_ '

Once at the end of the hall, he cast a look back over his shoulder. The two weren't watching him anymore, nor had they gone back to making out. Instead, they just stood hand in hand, staring out one of Hogwarts long windows at the full moon. And it was at that moment Farley understood. He would do anything to have someone he truly loved to stare out at the moon with - even break taboo.


	32. The Future is Alive and Exposed: I

Creeping around dusty furniture and over rickety crates, Farley felt his gut twist when he saw Alexis disappear from view with a yelp. Clambering over the sofa that Alexis had only moments before and onto the dresser behind it, he called, "Alexis?"

A moment later, seemingly out of thin air, the girl reappeared. "Wow, Farley! You have to hop down from there! It's amazing!"

Reluctantly, the boy jumped.

He gave a short yell of his own when his feet went straight through the floor.

Laughing from behind him, Alexis, crouched low beside him remarked, "Isn't this wicked? I guess some of your family was Ravenclaw clever! Just  _look_ at this treasure trove!"

Farley did look. Alexis was right. Someone in his family certainly had been clever enough for Ravenclaw, to have created this secret little room hidden behind all the rubbish and clutter that his family's attic had come to be filled with in the last century or so.

"Why have I never explored the attic before?" he whispered to himself.

Giggling from behind him, Alexis put her hands on his shoulders as she came around and told him with a sly grin, "Because you've never had a Hufflepuff friend with a Gryffindor brave streak to convince you."

Farley nodded agreeably as he reached out to pick a dusty, ruby-red goblet from a table. "It's a shame that Chip can't be here."

"Maybe we'll have to sneak him through your family's Floo sometime," she suggested idly as she floated past to run her finger along the silver frame of a painting.

Farley gave a derisive snort. "If you don't mind my mother becoming that evil witch who locked Rapunzel away in a tower in that muggle motion picture we watched at Chip's," he declared.

"Oh, don't become a downer on me, Farley! It was just an idea..." Alexis complained.

Coming to her side, he brushed the dust away from the picture and frowned when he saw that it was a painting of a child. Though, the face of said child was burnt off. A squib? Maybe.

"A stupid one," Farley harrumphed as he moved on to what appeared to be a jewelry armoire. Idly, he pulled a drawer open and looked at the contents. What lay inside appeared to be broken necklaces and trinkets. Utterly uninterested, he moved onto the next as Alexis came close.

Tone lecturing, she told him, "You know, it's those sort of surly comments that make other people think you're a jerk - why  _I_ thought you were one for the first half of our first year. If you just-"

Suddenly, Alexis's hand shot over his shoulder. Her index was stretched out and pointing toward a gold chain attached to a pendant with a little hourglass imbedded in it.

"Oh, Farley! Doesn't that look like a Time-Turner?" she asked excitedly. "Wouldn't that be just wicked? Think of all the fun we could have with one!"

Studying it closely, Farley had to agree. It did look like one. Though...squinting his eyes, he noticed that the sand seemed to be moving in a downward motion even as it laid on its side. "Odd..." he murmured. "Do you think it's broken?" he asked Alexis. "Most things in this armoire seem to be."

Smiling at him, the girl gave a flippant shrug. "Only one way to - ffff - find out!" she proclaimed in between blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face.

"Excellent point," he said as he reached down and picked it up.

Almost immediately after, everything went wrong.

Alexis gave a scream as light blinded Farley. Fearfully, Farley reached out for her. Thankfully, even though all he could see was bright white, he managed to find Alexis's hand.

With her hand clamping down hard on his, he shouted, "Don't let go!" A whirring noise similar to that of a clock being forced forward began. The light then started to flash and flicker like it -  _they_ \- were moving.

Soon enough, though, the whirring died away and the light faded. Blinking rapidly to clear the tears that had begun to gather in his eyes thanks to the light's intensity, Farley gasped at who he saw in front of him.

"Farley...?" Alexis whispered as she stepped out from behind him.

Her gasp was even louder than his.

However, their reactions had nothing on the gobsmacked expressions that the man and child in front of them wore.

The child, a little girl with flyaway, dirty-blond locks and the biggest pair of brown eyes that Farley has ever seen, shouted, "She looks like Mummy! An' the boy looks like the Farley you named me after!"

The man, who was becoming ever more recognizable with each passing second, put down his drink and nodded. "You're right, My-Fair-Lady," he agreed.

Getting up, the man came over and pulled out two seats at his table. "Sit, sit," he insisted as he guided them down into the chairs. "Are you two alright? Well, I suppose you must be. It's not like either of you went missing that summer. The fact you kept this secret, Farley, is just amazing. How'd you scare him into that, Alexis? No, no, you probably don't know yet. I'll ask you when you come home from Sheba's..."

Incapable of finding words, Farley's mouth stuttered on a half-formed question, "Are you-?"

"Yeah, Farley, I'm Chip. Probably figured that out already, haven't you? I'm as short as ever!" he proclaimed with a little laugh.

Looking between this grown Chip and the child ( _Farley_ , they named their daughter after  _Farley_!), Farley could easily see the similarities between the two. Like her father, Farley was small, her chin had the same strong cleft and the freckles that were splattered across her face held the same haphazardness as Chip's. However, in the girl Farley saw even more of Alexis. And wasn't that just the strangest thing? The two had only started dating this last spring and to know that they would  _marry_ and have a  _baby_ was just nuts.

He looked to Alexis. How was she taking this sudden glimpse into her future?

Frowning, Farley's friend crossed her arms. "So, we got  _married_  and had a  _daughter_ we named Farley?" she asked dubiously.

Taking a seat again, Chip chuckled as he ran a hand over his daughter's head. "Yes and well,  _no,_ actually-"

"-I have a penis like a boy, but I'm actually a girl! But you didn't know that when I was born, so you gave me a boy name!" Farley's namesake declared proudly. "That's right, isn't it Papa?" the little girl (boy?) inquired, looking to her father for conformation.

"Yes, My-Fair-Lady, we didn't know until you told us you were one," he agreed with an indulgent smile.

Brow furrowed, Farley had to take a moment to process this new little tidbit. Starting from the top, he began with the most important events of the last ten minutes. Him and Alexis found a Time-Turner. However, unlike the usual Time-Turner, this one sent them to the future instead of the past. Now they were in a kitchen with Chip and Farley's namesake. Oh, and Farley's namesake wasn't born a girl, but a  _boy_.

In the end, despite his best attempts to figure out how a little girl could actually be a  _boy,_ Farley just couldn't wrap his mind around it. How could someone be born the wrong gender?

So, for his own sake, he asked, "What? Is your kid playing some kind of game? Since when can a girl be born a boy? Is this a new thing?"

Chip, eyes soft and emotional, bore into Farley as his lips quirked with the barest hint of a smile. "No, it's not new, Farley. It's just better recognized these days. There have always been people who thought they were born the wrong gender. Before we called it a phase or a disorder or-or a lot of things. These days we listen and believe when someone tells us they were born in the wrong body and help them through the transition into the right one," he explained.

The man's explanation was still too lengthy and vague for Farley to really grasp or have any true understanding of, but he did now know that it was not a game and it was not wrong. What his namesake is experiencing was real.

"Oh," he replied simply.

Chip gave a watery sounding laugh as he reached over to put a hand on his shoulder. "I know what that means," he said. "Merlin, it's been years, but I  _do_. Don't worry, though, I don't blame you. People older and much more knowledgable than yourself still don't understand," he told him.

 _Years_? What did Chip mean by that?

However, before he could start up a new line of questions on  _this_ bit of information, Alexis said slowly, "I always did sort of want a daughter."

Farley's namesake beamed in response. "You said that too when I told you I was a girl an' not a boy!" she exclaimed excitedly. Getting up from her seat, she clambered onto Alexis's lap. "Mummy, I love you!"

Stiff and looking entirely out of depth, Alexis share a look with Chip and him as she wrapped an arm around Farley's namesake. "I love you too..." she mumbled.

Chip gave her a thankful nod as he came over and gently extracted the child from her lap. "Okay, Farley, why don't you get dressed for the day while Papa talks with Mummy and Farley?"

Giggling, Farley's namesake corrected her father. "You're goin' to talk to Farley  _the first_ , Papa!  _I'm_ Farley!"

"Right, Farley the first," Chip agreed with a relieved air as his daughter shot off for a staircase at the other end of the kitchen. Going back to his seat, the man commented, "At least I understand why you decided to take an impromptu trip to your sister's today, 'Lex."

An amused air coming to her features, Alexis smirked. "I can too. What's happening here, it's absolutely  _mad_."

"I have to agree," Chip sighed. "Now, I'm not sure how long either of you two have here...but I'd like it if you could get to know my daughter, especially you, Farley."

Nodding at this, Farley thought to ask, "I know we're good mates and all, but did we get really close? Naming your kid after me either means you lost some sort of bet or I did something extraordinary."

"Yes...why did we, Chip? No offense to you, of course, Farley," Alexis followed, casting a glance in Farley's direction.

Farley waved it off just as easily as he did most slights these days. "It's not a problem," he said.

Eyes watery again, Chip just shook his head. "You'll understand soon enough, 'Lex. And Farley...Why  _wouldn't_ we? You're a great mate - the best anyone could ask for!"

While flattering to hear Chip talk about him so proudly, Farley shifted nervously. "Yeah, okay, but what about if I have a kid? Shouldn't I have dibs on naming mine Farley the second first?"

Chip wiped tears from his eyes as he shrugged. "You're right...I guess I should apologize for stealing that from you!" he declared with a weak smile. "We just wanted to honor you so badly when Farley was born..."

Farley narrowed his eyes at the man and then moved on to share a worried look with Alexis. Both of them could tell something was wrong with Chip, but Farley was afraid to ask in case he didn't like what he heard and Alexis had always had more tact than him, anyway.

"Papa!" Farley's namesake shrilled as she came running into the kitchen. "Papa! I got my galoshes! Can we go play in the puddles in the front yard?"

The man nodded. "Yes, My-Fair-Lady. We'll  _all_ go play," he said, giving them pointed looks.

Shrugging their shoulders at one another, Farley and Alexis rise up from their seats and agree. "Yeah, we'll all go do some frog-hopping in the puddles," Alexis enthused.

Farley cracked a grin at this as his namesake gave a cheer. This was sure to be interesting.


	33. The Future is Alive and Exposed: II

* * *

"Hop! Hop! Hop!" Farley's namesake sang as she jumped from puddle to puddle. Occasionally, she'd look back to Farley, always laughing when she saw that he was following her.

Farley, who had little experience with children so young, was actually enjoying himself immensely. He'd never gotten to hop through puddles when he was Chip's and Alexis's daughter's age. If he'd have even tried, he'd have been taken over his mother's knee for getting himself so dirty.

Spinning around with her arms flung out, girl-Farley smiled at him. "You're a lot of fun, Farley the first! I wish you could play with me everyday!" she told him.

Copying her, Farley called back, "I wish I could do the same!"

He meant it too. This girl she was so...exuberant and  _free_. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met before. If there was anything Farley could be more proud of himself for, it would be for inspiring his friends to name their child after him. Whatever it was he did, he couldn't wait for the day if it meant somebody like Farley would be the one to carry his name on into the future.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Having tired of jumping and running around with the Farleys a long while ago, Alexis came to stand beside Chip. Glancing up every now and then, she found herself marveling and wondering how they came to be so in love, so close that they'd actually  _marry_. Alexis may have been crushing on Chip from the moment she saw him, but she'd never thought that infatuation would be so long-lived.

She hadn't really fancied anyone else, though, she supposed. Sure, she'd gotten worried about her lack of first with boys a couple years ago and had even gone so far as to have her first kiss with Farley because she'd thought it was taking too long to find a boy who she liked enough to actually kiss out of love. But other than that, she'd not let herself get too worked up about boys - unlike some the girls she knew.

Alexis's life goals didn't revolve around a future man, or even a family, for that matter. Her life revolved around the career she envisioned herself some day having. She'd always known she wanted to be a healer. Probably because she had always felt good making people feel better. Be it her little sister, from when they were small and Alexis would kiss her ouchies better, or from learning how to make Pepperup in potions class and sending a bottle home to her father when he told her he was feeling under the weather.

No matter how she pictured her future, Chip had hardly been a part of it - even after he became her boyfriend.

"Just how old are you, Chip?" Alexis asked.

The man, still staring at Farley and his daughter as they played in the aftermath of a rain storm, didn't answer her question. "They get along really well, wouldn't you say?" he said.

Alexis huffed. "Yeah, I guess they do," she agreed with some reluctance. This wasn't the conversation she'd wanted. She had wanted to discuss her -  _their_ \- future. Not Farley and his namesake.

"He'd probably make a great dad," Chip sighed.

"Yeah, probably," Alexis conceded. He was right, after all. Farley's eyes had yet to leave her and Chip's daughter. His attention was focused solely on her and he was smiling so hard his dimples were showing. It was obvious to anyone who could see that Farley really liked girl-Farley.

Smiling, Chip looked to her. "'Lex, isn't it beautiful? I always wished they could meet..." he trailed off, gaze far away.

"Chip," Alexis ground out, "Why are you acting like some weepy old-timer? It's just Farley playing with our kid. I'm sure a lot of our friends play with her all the time. She's obviously well-socialized."

"Oh 'Lex, you're so young," Chip commented with a mournful twist of his lips. "Farley's  _gone._ Has been since we were seventeen. Why else would we have named our child after him?"

Alexis, deeply troubled and frightened by what she was hearing, shook her head. "What? No! Farley can't be  _gone_  he's so-so-"

"Nice? He really was. Merlin, it didn't always seem like it when we were kids, but he  _was_. He could just be really fucking thoughtless and  _say_ something that would get you so  _upset_ , but he didn't have a true streak for meanness and he was never vindictive. It's crazy to think he actually was the kid of people like Millicent and Gregory Goyle."

"They are awful people," Alexis sniffled.

She just couldn't believe her best friend would be so permanently and irrevocably gone before she was even twenty.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Chip squeezed her tightly. "Hush, Alexis. You have another good three years with him. You'll just have to make the best of it, okay?"

"What happened? Why can't I save Farley?" Alexis questioned, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Chip shook his head. "I don't even know," he admitted. "He just...disappeared. It was over the Christmas hols of our last year of school, that he vanished. I have my suspicions about what happened, but I don't actually know. Since there was never a...body, you and me have been holding hope since. We like to believe Farley's out there in the world - even if we don't know where that could be - over him just being a skeleton in the ground."

"That seems like an awfully hard thing to do," Alexis told Chip.

The man shrugged. "It's better than the alternative, I have to say."

"Maybe," Alexis replied, not really believing him, but thinking someday she probably would.

Turning her, Chip met her gaze and asked, "I don't have to tell you to keep this a secret from Farley and me, right?"

"No," she answered with a shake of her head.

He gave a small smile. "Good."

She grinned back, even though she wanted to sit down and sob into her hands. She had to start pretending now that everything was fine or she'd probably be crying when Farley and girl-Farley tired of running around.

The sound of a clock on fast-forward filled her ears, turning toward her friend, she screamed, "Farley!"

Both Farleys started running in her direction. Outstretching her hand, Alexis managed to wrap her fingers around Farley's just as light blinded them.

Taking a deep breath, she let tears fall. When they were back in Farley's attic, it wouldn't matter because the light was so bright it made one's eyes tear up on its own.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Back in the hidey-hole of Farley's family's attic, he let go of Alexis's fingers. Turning his head, he smiled at her. "So, that was wicked, right?"

Tears on her cheeks, Alexis didn't say anything for a moment, then, a small smile stretched across her lips as she dried her face. "It really was," she agreed. "But you know you can't tell Chip, right? That Chip didn't know. We wouldn't want to changed the future."

"The future's not like the past, though. If we change it...would it really be so bad? I mean, Chip seemed kind of shocked by us being there. Wouldn't it be nicer to prepare him?" Farley argued.

Alexis shook her head. "No!" she snapped. "It was a good surprise for him and I'm not going to let you take that away from him, Farley Goyle!"

Farley put up his hands. He could tell Alexis really meant what she was saying. She wasn't the type to work herself into rages over nothing, after all. He was kind of afraid of what she might actually _do_ if he told Chip. Alexis would probably do more than knee him in the nads.

She'd probably cut them off altogether.

Wincing, he said, "Okay." Watching her expression relax, he grumbled, "If you feel that strongly about it, I'll keep my mouth shut!"

Red fading from her face next, Alexis, tears in her eyes, stepped forward and wrapped Farley up in a rare hug. "Thank you, Farley. Thank you!" she murmured into his hair.

Patting the girl's back, Farley replied, "Don't mention it."

Pulling away then, the girl gave a soft laugh as she pointed to the hem of Farley's pants. "You're a mess!" she exclaimed.

Looking down, he made a sad noise. "My mother will  _kill_ me if she sees my pants!" he cried.

"Here, why don't we see if we can't find something in one of these old armoires that you could change into?" Alexis inquired as she reached for the handles of one nearby.

Putting his hand on top of hers, Farley shook his head. "Uh, I think we should look in the regular section of the attic. Who knows what's actually inside that wardrobe? For all we know, some Death Eaters from the 1970s could tumble out!"

Alexis laughed. "You're right," she agreed. "Let's get out of here."

Climbing back out of the hidden room, Farley couldn't help his backward glance. Climbing back out of the hidden room, Farley couldn't help his backward glance. Maybe, some day, he would get back here and he'd be able to travel to the future once more and see his namesake. After all, it was pretty obvious his future self didn't have the time to come and see his namesake.


	34. Fair Splendor

Pursing his lips, Farley recalled how Chip told him to dress in a more muggle fashion for the day. Unfortunately for Farley, he didn't really have any clothes that met his friend's requirements. He knew well that muggles didn't dress with same amount of decorum as magical folk. He'd even seen this first hand, thanks to the muggleborn student populous. Their insistence in walking around in pajamas and ratty sweats during the weekends boggled Farley to no end. Even after witnessing this for the past five years, it still made him wrinkle his nose in distaste. If his mother were to see them, she just might breath fire as she ranted about how disrespectful and cavalier mudbloods had become.

Taking in the slacks, button downs, sweaters and leather shoes that made up his closet, Farley sighed. He doubted any real muggle teen would dress in any of the clothes that he owned to go to a fair. It made him, once again, lament on how unfair it was that he wasn't allowed to use magic at home. Eventually, Farley decided that a striped polo and a pair of tan slacks would have to do.

Dressing quickly, Farley grabbed his wallet from his bedside table. He then hurried from his room and toward the kitchen, where the hearth connected to the Floo Network was. He was to floo to Alexis's home and from there, together, they would floo to Chip's home. It'd be easier if he could just go straight to Chip's place, but his parents would never let him go anywhere again if he did. And if they knew he spent so much time at Chip's? He could say goodbye to his social life.

The Cornfoots were in his mother and father's bad book due to the fact his father had married a muggleborn. It was bad enough that they knew Alexis, who was still not completely approved of, was dating him. If his parents learned he considered Chip a friend, and that the other boy liked to show him and Alexis around muggle Bristol, they'd forbid Farley from ever seeing Alexis and Chip again. At which point, he knew his parents would pull him from Hogwarts. After that, Farley would be sent to a smaller, public school. Most likely it would be one of the schools that had popped up in the last two decades. Most of these public schools had opened shortly after the war. At the time, there had been a surge in demand for schools that were more"selective" in who they allowed to walk their halls.

It was almost a miracle his parents hadn't sent him to one to begin with, he knew.

After all, while these public schools may not be held in the same prestige as Hogwarts (or any of the other big name schools of Europe, for that matter) it didn't matter for Farley's future. His parents may have just begun talking about him learning how to run his mother's family's shop, but he suspected they'd been planning his future long before now. Even though Farley didn't actually want to take over the shop, he didn't believe he'd be allowed to refuse at this point either. So, he figured it was best to keep his opinions to himself and accept what fate had dealt him. Who knows? Maybe when his parents were dead he could sell it.

Reaching the kitchen, he took a quick glance around to see if his mother was around. If he ran into her, she'd ask a lot of questions. She might even feel concerned enough to make him carry out some kind of chore to keep him from seeing Alexis and Chip.

Relieved when he didn't see her, he started to make a beeline toward the hearth. But that was when he heard a voice from behind call, "Farley? Where are you going?"

The teenager jumped.

Turning around, he looked to the ground when he saw his mother frown at him.

"Just going to Alexis's," he said.

She sighed. "Will that Cornfoot boy be there?"

"No, Alexis didn't say anything about him being there," he answered truthfully.

His mother narrowed her eyes and said, "I was going to go visit Misses Flint today. Are you sure you wouldn't rather come with me to see her? I hear Ulyssa is there visiting."

Farley bit his lip. His mother and Misses Flint didn't know about his fallout with Ulyssa. Ulyssa and him had never said anything either. They didn't want to make their families feel awkward about their broken friendship. When they did see each other outside of Hogwarts, they always made sure to keep up a cordial facade. Otherwise, they did their best to avoid one another.

When Farley found himself in a melancholy mood, he'd reflect on their lost friendship. He'd always liked Ulyssa, but she'd wanted nothing to do with him after he had been sorted to Hufflepuff. He had tried many times to get her to talk with him during the first few weeks of school. But after she hexed him to have his toenails grow at an accelerated pace, Farley got the message. Ulyssa wanted him to leave her alone.

After that incident, Farley had avoided her just as much as she did him.

"No thanks, I'd hate to leave Alexis hanging," he told his mother.

She crinkled her nose. "Hanging? Merlin, Farley, talk like the proper young man I raised you to be!" she reprimanded.

Farley flushed. "Sorry, Mother," he whispered. "Can I please go now?"

Mother gave a quiet sigh. "Yes, go," she replied.

"Thank you!"

And a moment later, Farley was shouting his destination as he threw down his fistful of powder.

-v-v-v-v-v-

When Chip saw them, upon walking out of his family's fireplace, he crinkled his nose until it looked more like a pig snout.

"What are you wearing, Farley?" he demanded. "Did you forget what I told you about dressing like a normal teenager?"

Face reddening in embarrassment, Farley shrugged his shoulders. It was at this point Alexis moved forward to slap her boyfriend's shoulder. "Shut it, Chip!" Alexis hissed. "It's not his fault his parents still live in 1997!"

The mousy blond blinked. Then, features shifting into something more apologetic, he seemed to realize what Alexis was getting at. "Ah, right. Hey, why don't we go check out my closet? I'm sure we can find something in there you can wear instead," he offered.

Farley looked down at his toes and then to Chip. "That'd be great, but I'm...and you..." he babbled, pointing at Chip's rather scrawny physique and then to his own, tall, husky one.

"My parents _are_  a witch and wizard, Farley. They can resize the clothes."

Laughing a little, Farley bobbed his head. "Yeah, right, sorry," he apologized as he followed Chip along with Alexis out of the room and to his bedroom.

A few minutes later, Farley was going through the messy contents of Chip's closet. While he and Alexis, on the other hand, chatted about their upcoming trip to the fair behind him.

"I've never been to a muggle one, is it like a wizard fair?" Alexis questioned.

Spinning around in his desk chair, Chip made a confusing noise that sounded shocked. "Weeell..." he began, "The games are a lot like wizard ones. That's where the similarities end, though. Instead of watching people do acrobatics on brooms, and letting your kids go on winged-pony rides, you go on this giant wheel that lift you up in the air. And on other rides, like Merry Go Rounds where you ride  _fake_ horses and other things."

"Why would you want to ride a fake horse when you can ride a real one?" Farley inquired, while deciding on a simple white shirt to wear. It'd taken him a while to find it as it'd been behind Chip's many band and slogan shirts.

Chip gave an amused laugh. "It cost less for the fair people to transport and keep it running, I guess. Besides, kids like it just the same. So it's not like they're  _really_ being cheated out of anything," he argued.

Holding out the shirt he'd picked to his friend, he said, "This one will do, I think."

Both Alexis and Chip raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think you'd like a pair of shorts and maybe some more comfortable shoes, Farley? We will be there all day, after all." Alexis reminded him in her patient, 'someone's making a poor decision' voice.

Sighing, Farley didn't deign to answer her. Instead, he turned back to the closet and had another go through Chip's clothes.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"So, what's your first impression?" Chip asked with a wide grin.

Alexis closed her gaping mouth. Then she opened it for a second time without making a sound, before finally speaking. "This is...rather chaotic. isn't it?" she whispered.

"A little," Chip agreed.

Farley, taking in all the people milling about, felt a question bubble to the forefront of his mind. "Are muggle fairs always so busy?" he asked.

Chip grinned. "This one is," he answered with a small amount of pride. "This is the best fair Bristol hosts every year."

"Ah," Farley answered. "Say, where's that giant wheel you were talking about earlier? I'd like to check that out."

Throwing a friendly arm up and around Farley's shoulders, Chip pointed toward the sky. "See that moving thing there with the little rainbow chairs? That's the Ferris Wheel," he told him.

Alexis made a noise of excitement. "Oh! Let's go do that now!" she demanded. "I bet you can see the whole grounds from the top of it!"

"Yeah, for the most part," Chip agreed with a laugh. "First we'll have to go buy tickets. You guys can just pay me back with wizard money later, okay?"

Pouting, Alexis whined, "Aren't boyfriends supposed to pay for stuff like this?"

An impish grin curving his lips, Chip leaned in close to Alexis and murmured, "Maybe. Though, don't you think you should offer something awfully sweet back in return?"

Giggling, the girl leaned into her boyfriend and wrapped her arms around him to kiss him soundly on the lips. Farley rolled his eyes heavenward. He prayed to God they wouldn't be kissing every five minutes while they were at the carnival.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Peering over his feet at the ground below, Farley found he wasn't impressed by the Ferris Wheel. He cast a look sideways. Farley was sure that it also had something to do with the fact that Chip and Alexis had decided to use the ride's malfunction to their advantage. They'd decided about twenty minutes ago that snogging was the best way to pass time while they waited.

Farley couldn't say he agreed.

Puffing out a breath, Farley pushed back his hair from his face as a breeze blew by. He hoped that there was something more exciting than this rip-off of a ride at the Fair.

Feeling the ride give a lurch, the teenager sent a silent thank you to the Lord. Squeezed the safety bar keeping them in their seat, he smiled in relief. Turning his head, he frowned at how the two were still lip-locked. "Guys? We're going down now. If you plan to take a last look  _at all_ of the park, Alexis, Chip, I'd do it now," he told them.

The two did not separate. Sighing, Farley glowered down at the people waiting in line for the Ferris Wheel. He prayed that they would be back on the ground before he reached one hundred in his head.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"We should do that one again!" Farley exclaimed as they met up at the ride's exit.

Alexis raised an eyebrow. "You're only saying that because you liked that you got to drive a mini-muggle car and hit other mini-muggle cars."

Farley frowned at the girl. "So? That was the point of the ride, right?" he asked.

Laughing, Chip wrapped his arm around Alexis and remarked, "Don't mind her, Farley. There's a reason she wants to be a healer, after all. She's of the nonviolent persuasion. Say, Alexis, how about you go buy us something from that concession stand over there and the two of us will go at it one more time?" he suggested with a hopeful look.

Catching on, Farley pinned Alexis with a similar look and together, the two boys waited for her to cave.

Arms falling to her side, the girl pouted as she pulled away from Chip. "Fine," she agreed. "But this will be the  _last_ time you go on this ride, got it?"

Farley and Chip bumped fists as they enthusiastically thanked her. "Thanks, Alexis!"

"What a woman you are, Alexis!"

Rolling her eyes, the girl walked off. Smirking impishly, Chip questioned, "How many more times do you bet we can do the Bumper Cars before she puts her foot down?"

Farley smiled back. "Given how easily she falls for your puppy dog eyes, I'd say at least another three rounds."

"You're on!" Chip declared. "Loser has to ride the Waltzer with a stomach full of corn dogs!"

And soon enough, they found, just as Farley had guessed, that Alexis would let them do three rounds before she stomped her foot and told them they were being a couple of pricks.

Later, when it came time for to fulfill his side of the bargain, Farley couldn't have been more pleased. The color Chip's face turned while on the Walzter was on a spectrum of green that he'd been sure only a metamorphmagus would be able to reach. His subsequent up-chucking on Alexis's shoes may not have been part of the plan, but even after that, Farley had to admit that going to a muggle carnival had been a lot more fun than he'd expected it to be.

He also wouldn't mind coming again sometime.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"What did you do today at Abbott's home, Farley?" Mother asked over supper.

Stirring his spoon in his bowl of stew as his Mother slapped Father's hand for slurping, Farley shrugged. "The usual, I guess," he answered. "We did some flying and worked on a bit of summer homework."

His mother looked torn between approval and smugness. "While working on homework was an excellent way to spend your time with Abbott, you truly missed out on a treat today. Misses Flint took myself and Ulyssa to a matinee play of the Peverell Brothers's story. It was well done and I'm sure you would have enjoyed it as well," she proclaimed.

"I bet I would have too," Farley replied amicably as he thought of the even better day he'd had with his two friends at the muggle fair.

A play would have been nice, but it would have never beaten the boundless discoveries and joys he experienced at the carnival with Alexis and Chip.


	35. A Graduation from Wrongs of the Past

"Mother, I have  _plans_ ," Farley complained as he followed his mother from her bedroom to the hall.

Turning on her heels, his mother wagged her finger in Farley's face. "I don't want to hear it, Farley! This is Ulyssa's graduation party and you will be going!"

Farley, annoyed and unhappy with being told what to do, snapped, "She won't care! It's not like we're friends!"

His mother blinked. Confusion dimpling her forehead, Farley's mother murmured, "Of course you are. You have always gotten along splendidly."

"Mother-" Farley stopped. Why should he even bother explaining the complexities of post-war house relations to her? Or how no self respecting Slytherin would dare to hang out with a  _Hufflepuff_? If she wanted to think they were the best of friends, he'd let her. "We aren't as  _close_ as we used to be," he mumbled, looking at his feet. "I'd really like to go see Alexis instead, her sister just got a crup. We were going to help her name it...Can't I just sign Ulyssa's card and have you give her my congratulations?"

"No, Farley," his mother replied firmly. "You tell Alexis you won't be coming by today. This is Ulyssa's  _graduation party._ I don't care if you aren't best mates any longer, this is the polite thing to do!"

Fighting back the urge to yell, Farley huffed loudly as he relented. "I'll go write Alexis," he told her before stalking off.

"Farley! While you're in your room, why don't you change into something a little more respectable! The  _Zabinis_ and  _Notts_ are going to be there!" his mother's low voice bellowed after him.

Rolling his eyes skyward, Farley muttered to himself, "Oh joy."

-v-v-v-v-v-

"There's Ulyssa! She's talking with Oliver River's son. Why don't you go say hello, Farley?" his mother hissed into his ear as they stepped through the Floo into the Flint home.

Sucking in a breath, Farley grunted, "Yes, Mother."

Giving him an expressive look as she hooked arms with Farley's father, Farley knew he better not dawdle. It was best he make this as quick and painless as possible. If he got his niceties out of the way, he could probably go sulk by the table of refreshments for the next hour or so.

Glancing over in the direction of the refreshments, Farley found himself quirking an eyebrow in surprise. Was that Freesia Parkinson over there? How had  _she_ gotten into this party? Not only was she the illegitimate daughter of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, she was known for the wildly unorthodox research papers she wrote on the link between squibs and the magical purity of the families they came from.

Suddenly, a man Farley recognized as being Elijah Cram's older brother, came up and kissed Parkinson on the lips. Ah, that was how, Farley noted with some disapproval. Parkinson had used her connection to the Crams to get into Ulyssa's Graduation party. Looking around a little more, he had to wonder if the Malfoys were here. If they were, he was sure there would be a scene. Despite the fact she practically lived off her father's fortune, Freesia loved to insult him and call him out for abandoning her mother.

Yes, Draco Malfoy may not have done the proper thing and married Pansy Parkinson when he should have, but he still took better care of Freesia and her mother than other, less scrupulous men might have done.

Noticing Yale River walk away from Ulyssa, Farley seized on his chance and moved in. Coming to her side, he said, "Congratulations."

"Thank you," the young woman replied. "I appreciate it - even if it's not sincere."

Farley frowned. "Of course it's sincere. It's not easy to graduate from Hogwarts," he sniped.

"I suppose you're right," Ulyssa replied. Then, flashing him a familiar mischievous smirk, she remarked, "My father is proof of that, isn't he?"

He barked a laugh in response. "Mine's not that much better," Farley said with a grin.

"We're lucky our mothers had half a brain or we'd probably be in the same situation as them," Ulyssa continued with a bright tone.

Farley nodded rapidly. "Most definitely!"

Ulyssa, face unusually open, admitted, "You know, I was always jealous of the fact your parents actually wanted you."

"I was always jealous of how you got to spend time with people who were happy to be together and treated you like you mattered all the time," he followed.

Fingering the white-gold necklace adorning her neck, Ulyssa gave a shaky giggle. "I'm glad I finally told you that," she said, "I'm leaving for Canada next week and I was afraid I'd never get to tell you."

"You're leaving for Canada?" Farley asked with surprise. "Why?"

Ulyssa gave Farley a small, sad smile. "What's here in Britain for me, Farley? My parents haven't made a good reputation for themselves - or our family - and I was in Slytherin. There aren't a lot of options for someone like me. I could probably get a job at the ministry as a pencil-pusher, but that's the last thing I want to do.

"In Canada, I have a nice little job lined up. There's an Inn there that needs a manager to run it and Uncle Ephram knows the owner. He put in a good word and the bloke agreed to let me on for a trial period for the next six months. It'll be nice, don't you think? To get away from all these people who know my family history so intimately...There, in nowheresville Canada, I'm going to get to be just  _Ulyssa_. Doesn't it sound just wonderful, Farley?"

Swallowing thickly, he croaked, "It does."

Turning so she was facing him fully, Ulyssa, her pale face shadowed by her dark curls, leaned in and a placed a sweet kiss on his cheek. "I was always so mad with you for abandoning me to go to Hufflepuff, but I've really begun to realize lately what it was that you were doing all along. I'm not upset anymore and I don't blame you for trying to forge a new path for yourself and your family's name," she told him.

Fingers going to his lips, Farley just stared at his childhood friend in wonder. Crossing her arms, Ulyssa just gazed tenderly at him. "You're a good bloke, Farley Goyle," she proclaimed after a long moment. "I hope you'll have a nice life."

"Thanks," he whispered.

Eyes shimmering with unsaid emotions, Ulyssa gave one last nod to Farley before turning away and walking off to talk to Opal Montague.

Standing there for a long time, Farley tried to pinpoint the odd feeling that was caught in his throat. Eventually, as he watched the partygoers mingle and snack on refreshments, he realized what choked him was a mixture of sorrow and relief. It was sad to know that this would probably be the last time he ever saw Ulyssa, but it was okay too. Things were finally right between them. Ulyssa had forgiven him for his betrayal all those years ago and even understood  _why_ Farley had let himself go to Hufflepuff over Slytherin.

For once, Farley was glad that his mother had forced him to go to one of these gatherings.


	36. The Beginning of a Beautiful Relationship

"No, no, Farley, the seven goes on  _top_ , not there!" Chip exclaimed as he took Farley's quill and crossed out the seven and put it in the right place for the equation. "Honestly, Farley, how do you always mix up concentration and bodyweight?" he asked.

Farley gave a shrug as Alexis gave an idle hum before commenting, "What I'd like to know is why you're even taking Transfiguration. You passed the O.W.L. for it by the skin of your teeth and here we are, two years later, prepping for our N.E.W.T.s and you  _still_ need to have your equations corrected by Chip."

"It's because Professor Patil lets us have that half-sheet of parchment for the exams. I might have no mind for numbers, but I sure can write small," he explained as he took his quill back from Chip to finish his problem.

Chip chuckled and said, "I'm just surprised you  _chose_ to take it after our O.W.L.s - even if you did pass!"

"You think I had a choice? Once Mother saw I'd passed, she insisted," Farley muttered as he dropped his chin to the table to glare at the pile of equations still waiting to be done.

Giving his bangs a flick, Alexis hissed, "Sit up! August over there is watching you!"

"Why's it matter if she's watching? She's a fourth year and a Slytherin," Farley grumbled as he did as directed.

Alexis flattened out her lips into a thin line and gave his leg a kick. "She's the only girl I've ever seen bat her eyelashes at you, Farley Goyle, and I'm not going to let those two little things get in the way! Besides, you're wrong, she's a fifth year not a fourth."

"Excuse  _me_ ," he chuffed as he went about starting on his next problem for Transfiguration.

Grabbing his arm, Alexis gave it a shake and whined, "Far- _ley_!"

"Alexis!" he snapped. "Stop, would you?"

Crossing her arms, the girl turned her head and glared at one of the many shelves of books in silence. Meeting Chip's gaze as his girlfriend's silence stretched on, Farley raised an eyebrow.

Chip shrugged in response and inquired, "Is it because she's Slytherin?"

Farley threw his quill down in disgust. "No!" he shouted as he gathered up his things. "When you and  _Mother_  are done trying to plot my love life for me, come find me!"

Storming out of the library then, Farley didn't care one whit that the librarian was scowling at him from her desk. So he'd been a bit loud, like a million other kids hadn't done the same before! Fixing the strap of his satchel as he went through the doors, he mumbled to himself, "Merlin's name! It's like a second set of  _parents_!"

Once in Hogwarts's vaulted halls, Farley didn't head for his dorm like Alexis and Chip would expect, instead, he started for one of the doors out of the castle. It was still quite early in fall and with a simple warming spell, he'd be alright for a while in just his school robes. When he came out onto the lawns, it didn't take Farley too long to find a tree to sit beneath.

Taking a seat, he cast a warming charm on himself and pulled out his work.

It always went smoother with Chip's help, but since he and Alexis were being a couple of nosey busy-bodies, Farley would have to struggle through it on his own. However, as he rummaged through his haphazardly packed papers, he was made to swear.

"Shit! Just my luck to lose my homework, isn't it?" he huffed.

A small cough caught his attention.

Looking up, he saw it was tiny August Slughorn standing in front of him with a piece of parchment clutched in her hands.

"You dropped this," she told him.

Getting up, Farley warily took it from her. "Thanks," he said.

She smiled. "You're welcome!" she enthused. "You already looked so mad when you left, I figured the least I could do was make it a little better by bringing you your assignment. That way you wouldn't have to go all the way back to the library for it!"

Eyeing her carefully, Farley took in everything about her. She was small, unassuming. She almost always had her hair up in a ponytail, and if not that, a bun; it made her look very neat and very proper. Though, this professional look of hers was softened by the way her lips were always lilted up in private smile, giving her a friendly and sweet look at first glance. But Farley knew better than to believe it. He saw the way her tiny, black eyes watched everything. August might not talk much and when she did, only have silly things to say, but Farley knew there was more to her.

She was playing at being a heritage Slytherin when she was really a bonafide one that would have made Salazar himself proud.

"Why have you been watching me, August? What are you looking to get from me?" he demanded, throwing off all polite pretense.

August did not flinch and she never lost her smile. "What makes you think I want anything?" she asked.

"Alexis has noticed you watching me. Thankfully for you, she doesn't have much experience with Slytherins. She just thinks you fancy me."

The girl took a step forward, then another, and finally settle herself right beside Farley. He cast a warming charm on her.

"Thanks," she said as she tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear.

Farley nodded.

Smoothing her hand over his homework, August said, "You know, she isn't completely wrong."

"Really?" he asked dubiously.

The grin August flashed him was a lot more cutting than anything he'd ever seen on her before. "I  _was_ hoping you might like to be my boyfriend - or at least in name, anyway."

"What are you trying to get at here, Slughorn?" he demanded.

She sighed. "My mother, much like yours, puts a lot of stock in the old beliefs. Unlike her, though, I do not. And, I've been watching you for  _years_ , you don't put much faith in them either."

"I don't," Farley agreed. After all, there was no denying it. He'd not only ended up in Hufflepuff, but made friends with a Chip Cornfoot, a boy known for his disreputable blood.

Spinning a lock around her finger, she explained, "I'm seeing this Ravenclaw boy, he's the smartest bloke I've ever had the pleasure of talking to, but..."

"He's a muggleborn, right?" Farley asked.

The girl gave a nod.

Farley understood right then what August was seeking and he felt his heart give a pang for her. He could appreciate what she was suffering through and he wanted to help make it better. After all, she only needed him long enough to become of age and then she and her beau could run off if they were really that madly in love with each other when they graduated.

It'd be dangerous for both of them, if they were discovered, he knew, however. Farley for helping the girl see filth like her Ravenclaw lover and for August, she would be risking her inheritance and her place in her home. But if she thought they could pull it off, he would do it because he trusted the cunningness he saw in her.

"Yeah, I'll do it," Farley told her.

Her eyes grew wide and with a sudden, gobsmacked look, she threw her arms around his neck and gave his cheek a loud kiss. "Oh! You will? Oh! Farley! Oh, thank you!"

Patting her back, he let a small smirk flit over his lips. "I suspect you already know what we're going to need to do to make this work?" he inquired.

Limbs and lips to herself again, August gave a giddy laugh and nodded. "I do," she answered. "I even have it all written down if you wish to see it?"

"Yes, please," Farley replied as he made a grabby-motion with his hand. "If you want this to go off without a hitch, I'll probably need a copy for myself. I don't have the natural finesse for this kind of stuff…"

And as they began to go over everything, Farley felt right. He was doing something good for someone - entirely without gain on his part and in all his life, he'd never felt more different from his parents.

Never had he felt more like just Farley than he did now.


	37. And From the Tree, Another Branch Sprouts

Running her finger across the flower-petal soft lip of her newborn son, Ulyssa beamed. This was her baby. Already his hair was dark and curling and she could see even now that someday the strong Flint jawline would make itself known among the rest of his features.

Bed dipping down beside her, Ulyssa turned her head to see Farley wearing an expression that was much softer than anything he'd worn in years. Maybe even softer than the looks he used to get when they were little children and she'd share he dreams of being an Auror.

"Want to hold your son, Farley?" she asked in a whisper as not to wake the newly born baby.

Farely hesitated. It made him look even older than he usually did with his premature wrinkles. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Ulyssa found herself laughing. "Farley! Of course I mean it! he's your son too!"

"Okay, if you're sure…" he agreed. Outstretching his scarred hand to her, Ulyssa repositioned them before placing their son in his hold. Watching with an overjoyed heart as Farley brought the little baby close to his face, she covered her mouth to hold back a sob as he gave his forehead a sweet kiss.

He'd never looked more at peace.

"Do you love him?" she asked.

Lifting his gaze up from their son's face, that old grin that used to make his cheeks dimpled appeared. "Yes, I love him," he answered. "What a silly question!" he chuckled as he brought his son close to his chest for a moment before handing him back to Ulyssa.

"What shall we name him?" she asked when their baby was settled once again beside her heart.

Farley stared at their son with an inscrutable expression for a long moment before saying, "Icarus. Let's call him Icarus."

"Icarus?" she echoed. Her brows drawing close together, Ulyssa inquired, "But isn't he that boy in the Greek fable who died when he failed to listen to his father?"

Farley nodded. "He is," he agreed. "But he's also a boy who bravely faced a lot of hard stuff in his short life. He might have flown too close to the sun in the end like an idiot, but it can never be said he didn't live to the fullest."

Ulyssa considered this for a long moment. "I think you're view of fable-Icarus is a little off, but I can't deny I like the sentiment you've given. Yes, Icarus is a perfect name for our son," she finally decided as she pulled her baby away from her chest to get a good look at his tiny face. "Icarus Goyle-Flint. It has a lovely ring to it, doesn't it?" she murmured appreciatively.

"I think you mean, Icarus Flint-Goyle, but, yes. It's lovely either way," Farley agreed with a kiss to the top of her head.

Lifting her gaze to meet her husbands, Ulyssa thinned her lips as she said, "No, I  _do_ mean Icarus Goyle-Flint. I'm the one who carried him for nine months and then had my vagina ripped nearly in half bringing him into this world. My name will be what people call him by if they don't want to say Goyle-Flint every time."

Farely gave a low chuckle. "Okay," he agreed. "But for the next one, it's going to be Flint-Goyle, okay?"

"The  _next_ one, Farley? We just finished having  _Icarus_!"

He smiled. "I'm not saying we have to have them right now, Ulyssa. I'm just making sure we're both aware of what the next one will be named."

"Uh-huh," Ulyssa muttered unimpressed as she brushed her hand down Icarus's cheek, causing him to snuffle. "You better mean that. We aren't even  _considering_ another child for at least another three years." Pursing her lips, Ulyssa decided even that wasn't long enough. " Or, maybe even seven years," she proclaied

"Maybe seven," Farley parroted with a laugh. "I love you, Ulyssa."

She smiled at her husband and craned her neck to capture his lips in a kiss. "Love you too, Farley."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a comment and/or kudo!


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